


Like a Bolt Out of the Blue

by georgygirl



Series: Across the Universe [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Is a Good Bro, Drama, Fluff, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Time Travel, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 17:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgygirl/pseuds/georgygirl
Summary: Evidently, aliens aren't the only thing that come out of wormholes. Future children also happen to fall out of them, too. Or maybe alternate universe is more likely.Because there's no way this is Tony's future daughter that's just appeared in his workshop calling him 'Papa' and talking about people and things he's never heard of. And there's absolutely no way he broke up with Pepper only to end up marrying some 'old man' that probably can't even get it up. That Tony Stark might have been that desperate for a ring, but he sure isn't.And Bruce and Rhodey are absolutely nuts if they think he constantly talks about the Cap because he's secretly attracted to him. No, the guy is just a sanctimonious jerk that needs to be taken down a peg. It has nothing to do with attraction at all. Nothing.OK, not too much.*REPOST*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a work that was originally posted here in 2015.
> 
> I'm kind of a sucker for Steve/Tony as dads, so I thought I'd try my hand at a kid fic of sorts.
> 
> Takes place not long after The Avengers ended but makes passing mention to some things that come in during Phase 2.
> 
> Also, only rated 'Mature' for talk of some of Tony's fantasies concerning a certain Capsicle in a later chapter. Otherwise, the worst you're looking at here is some choice language on Tony's part.

* * *

"Look, I'm just saying the guy needs to let it go. It's been over fifty years. Move on already."

Tony watched as Bruce sighed a little, pushed up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, and said, "Yeah, Tony, for _us _it's been over fifty years. It happened before either one of us was even born. For the Cap, it's been, what, a month?"

"So?"

"_So? _Tony, he's from _Brooklyn_," Bruce said like it should have explained everything.

"Yeah, and?"

"You ever heard 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game'? 'Root, root, root for the home team'?"

He rolled his eyes and played with a few calibrations on his screen. "They're not _dead_. They just moved to California."

"To him, they might as well be dead. He's a Brooklyn kid, Tony, from the first half of the 20th century. He probably spent as much time at the ball park as he spent at his home."

Tony snorted a laugh and, after finishing his recalibrations, ran an equation to see if it was possible to increase the power of the thrusters without increasing the drain on the reactor.

"Yeah, well, not my fault they moved the team out west. I'm just saying, he needs to let it go."

"Tony, try to sympathize here. He's had his entire life taken away from him. He deliberately crashed a plane to save the world. He thought he was going to die. The next thing he knows, he's very much alive and very much in the future. Everyone he knew or loved is dead. The world as he knew it has passed him by. Just… If he wants to complain about his ball team ditching Brooklyn for sunnier skies, let him."

Tony rolled his eyes and scowled as the equation came back with less-than-adequate results. "Whatever," he muttered and typed in another to run. "There's no talking to him, anyway."

"How do you mean?"

"I just mean he's a sanctimonious pain the ass. Like, he always thinks he's right about things, and he always thinks his way is the right way, and he's always walking around with that stupid hair of his and those stupid perfect teeth of his and, I don't know, would it kill the guy _not _to shop in the old men's section at _Macy's?_"

He shuddered. Macy's. Good god.

"Yeah, anyway," Bruce said, clearly like he was trying to change the subject, "why did you want me down here again?"

Tony shrugged. "Someone to bounce ideas off of. I notice you have an issue with pants. Is that something you want to work on?"

Bruce just blinked and stuttered out a few words like he wasn't quite sure where Tony was going with his questioning.

"Look, I'm just saying you've been fortunate in that your Fruit of the Looms have held up so far, but I really don't want to think about the day that you get that one pair that's just a _little _too tight on you, and we've got Hulk junk swinging all over Midtown or something."

"Uh, thanks," Bruce said, perplexed, like he wasn't sure whether to be insulted or not. "It's… I mean, is there some sort of polymer that maybe you could work out? Something that would grow and shrink as needed—"

"_Old Spice_, Bruce!" Tony cried and sat back in his chair like he'd just made the most profound statement of the century. "He uses _Old Spice_."

Bruce dropped his head a little. "And we're back to Cap."

"I'm just saying, I mean, is he _trying _to attract anyone under seventy? Is he even thinking? He looks like a fucking model, he— he dresses and acts like he's from the forties!"

"He _is _from the forties," Bruce said and rolled his eyes. "Are we going to talk science, or are we going to talk Steve?"

Tony made a face. "Steve? You mean Cap? Why?" He leaned forward like he was aiming to conspire. "Is there something you want to tell me about your feelings for our 'leader'?"

But Bruce just smiled at him amusedly and said, "I don't know, Tony. Is there?"

"Are you implying something—"

"No, no, nothing at all. Just that in the last half-hour that I've been down here, twenty-five of those minutes have been spent on you talking about everything from Cap's slang problems to the fact that he didn't get one of your admittedly pretty _bad _pop culture references to his clothing choices to what toothpaste he uses to what ball teams he roots — or doesn't root — for to what brand of aftershave he uses and about ten other things that I've forgotten."

"Your point?"

Bruce heaved a sigh and shook his head. "If you can't figure it out on your own, I'm not going to tell you."

He shrugged and began to rework his equation. "Whatever. You hungry? I think I'm hungry. J, when's the last time I ate?"

"_Approximately twenty-seven hours ago, Sir. Captain Rogers brought down a sandwich for you prior to leaving for his mission. He took your comment about a five-dollar foot-long to be questionable innuendo._"

Tony shot a pointed look at Bruce. "That's the mindset of our great Sentinel of Liberty. A twelve- year-old boy."

Bruce leveled him with a flat look. "Coming from you, I don't blame him for reading that into it."

"Excuse me?"

He shook his head and waved off his concern. "Nothing. Never mind."

"You heard the story about 'fondue,' right?" He snapped his fingers. "J, remind me to have a fondue party when the Cap gets back. Been a few days since I trolled him about anything."

"Do you really want to be known as the man that trolled Captain America?"

"Not really. Only because it's like shooting fish in a barrel. Not really much sport or fun in it. It's too easy," he said, but there was a weird crackle of energy to the air, and he frowned and looked around. "Do you feel that?"

"Yeah," Bruce said, looking as confused as he felt. "Is that one of your—"

"Nothing I'm doing," he said, some weird charge vibrating in the air. "Hey, J? You doing something you're not supposed to be doing, buddy?"

But JARVIS didn't have time to respond, as there was suddenly a weird hum followed by a crack and a flash, and Tony jumped back as an amber-colored portal opened in the middle of his lab, and a child with blonde hair shot out of it like something had pushed it through. The kid hit the floor and slid back toward Tony's worktable, and as the child lay there dazed a moment, the hum stopped, and when Tony looked back up again, the portal was gone and the weird crackle of energy had dissipated.

But the child remained. A child on the verge of tears.

She was a girl, Tony figured, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing a pair of blue jeans with colorful flowers etched onto the pockets, and as Tony came around to get a look at her, Bruce joining him at his side, he saw her screen-printed purple t-shirt featured what looked to be cartoon versions of the Avengers (OK, the stylized 'Avengers' at the bottom of the picture kind of gave it away). The child groaned a bit, and Tony heard what sounded like a high-pitched whine emanating from her — like she was ready to burst into tears.

But she looked up, eyes big and brown, and she stared right at Tony and said in a choked voice, "Papa!" and scrambled to her feet before she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his thighs and pressing her face into his hip.

"Uh," he said and lifted his arms like he didn't want to touch it — which he didn't — and he looked to Bruce for help, but Bruce just went from looking at the kid to Tony to the kid to back to Tony again.

"How?" Bruce said. "Who? What?" He turned back to look at where the portal had once been. "What just happened?"

The little creature just tightened her arms and rubbed her face in his pants, and Tony was certain he heard something that sounded like a fucking sniffle— Oh, great, was she getting slobber on his clothes?

"Papa, is he gone?"

Tony looked beseechingly at Bruce, but Bruce just grimaced and scratched the back of his head and stuttered out several non-words, and the little thing that had attached herself to him pulled back a little and looked up at him, eyes watery and lip trembling and face splotchy from where she'd had it pressed into his pants.

"Papa?" she asked, her little voice choked.

Tony just stared down at her, horrified to admit that he _did _see a slight resemblance. Slight. OK, except for the blonde hair, she was pretty much the spitting-image of him when he was that age — well, in the face, anyway — and he grimaced and reached down and gently pulled her arms away from him and said, "Yeah, this isn't happening."

"Papa, wha's wrong?" she asked and rubbed at her nose with her fist. "Is he gone?"

"Who? Is who gone?"

"The man!"

"What man?"

She pointed in the general direction of where she'd come from. "The man! The bad man! He said he was g'nna hurt you."

"Yeah, that could be any of about a thousand people," he said and tried to put some distance between him and the…kid.

She sniffled and rubbed her nose again, and when she glanced to the side, her eyes went wide. "Unca Bruce! When'd you get here?"

Bruce turned to Tony in surprise, but Tony held his hands up like Bruce was on his own on this one. Which, whatever, it wasn't like she'd called him—

He stopped dead in his tracks. _Papa?_

"Uh, hey, kiddo," Bruce said, tentative and hesitant. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she replied like the answer was obvious.

"No," he said, "I mean down here. In the lab."

"Coloring." And then her tears were all but forgotten as her voice went all sorts of high and excited and she said, "Wanna see the pitcher I drew, Unca Bruce? It's all the 'vengers."

Before either Tony or Bruce could say anything, she ran over to the table beside the couch that Tony had put in the lab, and she stopped cold and stared at the table before she turned back and said, "Papa! That man stolded my pitcher!"

"Yeah, I doubt that."

Bruce shot him a look of some kind. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean. Cap could probably have translated it for him. Cap seemed to have some innate ability to read people's minds and intentions, and he was good about explaining them for Tony. It was probably the one good thing about him — that as much of an ass as he was, Tony could read him in ways he couldn't read anyone else, not Rhodey, and not even Pepper. And he'd only known the guy a month.

Wait, was he thinking about the Cap again? Jesus, maybe he did have a problem.

The mystery kid just stood there like she expected Tony to do something, and Tony snapped, "_What?_" at her, but his tone must have gone clear over her little head, as she just said, "My crayons are gone!"

"What am I supposed to do about that?"

She looked up at the ceiling. "Friday, where did my crayons go? Did that man take them?"

Tony glanced up and sputtered, "What are you—? Who are you talking to?"

"Friday," she replied. "She lives in the ceiling and watches over us."

"Uh, do you mean JARVIS?" Bruce asked, and the little girl looked at him like he was crazy.

"What's a Jarbus?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Not 'Jarbus,' you idiot. JARVIS. He runs the building. Hey, J?"

"_Sir,_" JARVIS responded, and the little girl gasped and said, "Vision!"

"Who?" Bruce asked, but Tony said, "Uh, J, run a scan on our guest. Make sure she's at least human."

"_I have already done so, Sir. She appears to be a human female, approximately four years old, three-feet-seven-inches tall and forty-five pounds._"

The little girl frowned and said, "Vision, are you in the ceiling, too? Papa, why's Vision in the ceiling?"

"Who the hell is Vision?" Tony cried, unable to help himself because, seriously, did this kid just literally appear out of nowhere?

"Yeah, OK!" Bruce said and stepped in before Tony could say anything more. He made a face then crouched down to the kid's level and said, "Hey, sweetheart, so, in case you haven't noticed, your, uh, _papa _and I are a little, ah, confused by what's going on here, and, uh, you fell and hit your head a little bit, so would you mind if I asked you a couple questions to make sure you're OK?"

She shrugged. "OK."

_Genius plan there, Brucie. If I gave a shit about her, that is_.

"What's your name?"

"Olivia."

He nodded. "Good. Very good. Now, what day is today?"

"Wednesday."

"OK, good. Now, what's today's date?"

She shrugged. "I dunno."

"OK, do you know what year it is?" She nodded.

"What's that?"

She grinned a little and said, "Twenty-eighteen!"

Tony fell against the worktable chair, but Bruce, to his credit, didn't falter. "OK, and how old are you, Olivia?"

"Three-and-three-quarters. 'm g'nna be four in August." And she held up four proud fingers to show that she knew how to count at least that high.

Bruce threw a glance back at Tony and said, "You've got two years to prepare."

Tony sneered a little but said nothing, and Bruce turned back to the brat.

"And what's your birthdate?"

"You mean what day I was I born?"

"Yeah."

"August twenty-eight, twenty-fourteen," she replied like she was extremely proud of the fact.

"Hang on. Let me mark that on my calendar," Tony muttered and pulled the chair out to sit in it.

"_Tony_," Bruce murmured, and Tony made a gabbing motion with his hand and then waved him off in annoyance. Whatever this brat had to say he neither cared nor was buying it.

"And what were you doing right before you fell and hit your head?"

"Coloin' with Papa."

"Your papa was coloring with you?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he was s'pposed t' be workin' on 'venger stuff, but we were coloring instead."

Her face went a little pinched all of a sudden, her eyes narrowing, her lips pursing, and a deep crease forming between her brows. It startled him a bit because up until that moment, even Tony could admit that she bore a striking resemblance to him — much as he hated to admit that — but this…this was not him. At all.

But god, did it look familiar.

Even Bruce noticed, glancing back at him and saying, "That's definitely not you."

"No shit."

The brat gasped a little. "Language, Papa!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Her little mouth dropped open in further insult, shattering the strange illusion that had come over her face, and she next went a little devious, smiling impishly as she looked at Tony and said, "'mna tell on you, Papa."

"Who the hell are you going to tell?"

She continued to grin, and she did that little coy and bashful maneuver that little kids liked to do when they were teasing or lying to adults, and she said, "You know who," like Tony was supposed to know what she was fucking talking about.

"Whatever, kid. Tell whoever you want."

She frowned at Bruce and said, "Is Papa mad?"

Tony rolled his eyes, but Bruce made a face and said, "Uh, he's a little cranky."

"_Oh_," she said, nodding and drawing out the word like she understood completely.

"_Oh?_" Tony snapped. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," Bruce replied. "She's your daughter."

"Don't even start with that bullshit, Bruce!"

"_Sir,_" JARVIS cut in, "_I wish to inform you Miss Potts has arrived and is on her way to the laboratory_."

Tony groaned and buried his face in his hands. Fuck, he'd forgotten Pepper was still in town. "Great," he muttered and pulled back. "Great. Sure, why not. Maybe she knows how to deal with this?"

Bruce went a little deer-in-the-headlights but recovered enough to say, "Uh, Tony, it might not be a good idea for her to be here when Pepper shows up."

"Why? Pepper's clearly her mother, and Pep's better with that sort of shit than I am."

"Yeah, but—"

"An' Pepper's coming?" the brat cried out with barely repressed glee, clapping her hands together as her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Tony nearly face-planted onto the desk.

"Uh, did she just say…?" Bruce murmured, but Tony didn't have a chance to respond or question the little monster as Pepper — _Aunt Pepper _— strode into the workshop looking every bit the beautiful and powerful and wonderful woman that she was. She smiled when she saw Tony and made headway to kiss him, but the little demon spawn instead ran at her, screeching out, "An' Pepper!" as she threw her little arms around Pepper's legs and latched on tight.

"Uh…" Pepper said for lack of anything better as she looked down at the little blonde tyrant, arms raised like she was afraid to touch, and she looked up at Tony and said, "What's going on here?"

Tony shrugged. "Hell if I know. Portal opened, she came flying through it, portal closed, and now she's stuck here."

Pepper just looked between Tony and the little varmint that had attached itself to her. "What is she?"

"_Miss Potts, if I may. She is a human female child, approximately four-years-old, three-feet-seven- inches tall and forty-five pounds. She calls herself 'Olivia,' and she has approximated her birth on the date of twenty-eighth of August two thousand and fourteen. She has, since her arrival, referred to Doctor Banner as 'Uncle Bruce' and to Sir as 'Papa.'_"

Tony rolled his eyes and said, "Thanks, J."

"_Anytime, Sir_."

But Pepper just looked at Tony and uttered a disbelieving, "_What?_"

"Well, clearly aliens aren't the only things that come out of wormholes," he said and got up from his seat, deliberately pushing the idea of a wormhole to the back of his mind. "Evidently, future or alternate universe children also fall out of them, too. Probably alternate universe."

Pepper's eyes went wide, and she glanced down at the little girl still hugging her tightly, her arms dropping as though to touch her gently and protectively and said, "Children? Is this our—"

"_The young Miss Olivia was thoroughly pleased to hear of the impending arrival of the woman she referenced as 'Aunt Pepper.'_"

Tony cringed and squeezed his eyes shut a moment, and he when he opened them again, Pepper was blinking furiously like she was trying to comprehend what had just been said to her.

"_Aunt _Pepper?" she repeated like it was the most offensive thing she'd ever heard, and the little girl looked up at her and said, "C'n we go to the toy store, An' Pepper? Daddy says 'm not allowed t' b'cause he doesn't want me t' be spoiled, but he doesn't hafta know."

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes. Evidently, she wasn't the smartest kid in the world because clearly one that had a few brain cells to rub together would know not to say something like that in front of the person they were trying to keep it from.

Pepper just glared at Tony, and Tony winced a little from the look he saw in her eyes. No, not the anger.

The pain. The hurt.

"Pep, she just showed up out of the blue—"

"Tony," she said like she was trying to contain herself, hands fisted at her sides and teeth clenched, "get her away from me, _please_."

Tony faltered, but Bruce came closer and said, "Hey, Olivia, why don't you let your Aunt Pepper go, huh? You're going to get her nice chinos all wrinkled."

Tony watched as Pepper shut her eyes at the 'Aunt Pepper' title, like the mere thought of it was stabbing her in the heart, and the brat let go of her and moved, of course, not over to _Bruce _but to _him_, and she fucking tried to take his hand for some fucking stupid reason. He was able to wrench his arm away in time, leveling her with the most murderous glare he could muster, and she frowned, her brows drawing together in hurt as she shrunk into herself a little.

Fuck, she looked so fucking familiar when she did shit like that, but he couldn't figure out _who _she looked like.

Pepper was blinking now, avoiding eye contact, and Tony knew she was trying, oh, she was trying oh-so-hard not to cry, and he shot a look at Bruce to get the little brat out of there, hoping Bruce would get the idea. Bruce just gave him a funny look, frowning, head tilted, and Tony had to nod at the brat then nod at the door, and Bruce seemed to get it after that.

Fuck, even the Cap would have gotten what he wanted without it being so obviously telegraphed.

"Hey, Olivia," Bruce said in his most cheerful voice, crouching down to her level. "Are you hungry?"

She pursed her lips and nodded, putting a finger to her mouth as she tilted her head in thought. "Yeah," she said.

Bruce smiled at her, and Tony found himself jealous for only a second that he seemed to have such a natural rapport with children, the kind that Tony knew he himself never would.

Then again, maybe he would have a better rapport if it had been _Bruce's _kid that had come barreling into his workshop. Hell, he'd probably even have an easier time with the Cap's kid. Then again, the world probably couldn't tolerate _two _sanctimonious egotists without imploding in on itself.

He shuddered at the mere thought of that cold, terrifying world.

"OK," Bruce said and stood up again. He reached out for her hand, and she took it, and just when Tony thought they would get her out of there without any other problems, she had to go and fucking ruin it on them.

"Can An' Pepper come with us?"

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose, and Tony all but threw his hands up in the air in defeat, but Bruce just said "Uh, I don't think so. Your Daddy has to stay down here and have a talk with…Pepper."

The little troublemaker rolled her eyes and huffed. "That's not 'Daddy.' That's 'Papa.'"

Bruce frowned at her. "You don't call him 'Daddy'?"

"No," she replied like he should know that. She pointed at Tony. "That's Papa. Daddy's bigger. And _old_. Papa's always callin' him th' old man. You know that, Unca Bruce."

_Wait_. She had a 'Papa' _and _a 'Daddy'?

And _old? _Jesus fuck, how the hell _old _was this—

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," Pepper said, and Tony turned and tried to placate her, but even as he put calming hands out toward her, he could only grimace as he said, "In my defense, I was straight with you about that from the beginning — uh, no pun intended."

Pepper wasn't in the mood for his defenses, and the little monster went to say more, but Bruce thankfully ushered her out of the room, and the door locked shut behind them. Pepper just stood there, still pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand, the other planted on her hip, and Tony grimaced again and said, "I can explain—"

"_Can you?_" she snapped, dropping her hand from her nose and glaring at him. "Where did she even come from? Who is she? How do you even know she's really your daughter?"

"I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know," he said because…well, technically, he _didn't _know the answers to any of that.

"I thought you said you could explain?"

"I can explain what happened," he replied. "Look, Bruce and I were just sitting here chatting—" _about Steve_, "—and all of a sudden this yellowish-orangeish portal opens up and she comes tumbling through, and she immediately starts calling me 'Papa' and Brucie 'Uncle Bruce' and generally acts like she knows us and knows the place."

He was proud of himself for getting the word 'portal' out without breaking out into a cold sweat. He'd...had some incidents as of late.

"_Tony_—"

"_Miss Potts,_" JARVIS intoned, "_if I may concur with what Sir has just said. The child appears to have entered the laboratory through a mysterious portal that opened for precisely 5.2 seconds before it closed in on itself. The young miss appeared from the portal and immediately happened upon Sir, to whom she ran over and began to hug, using the familial term 'Papa' for him. I have performed a rudimentary facial recognition scan on her, and while my findings are far from complete, it would seem that the young miss does share some physical characteristics in common with Sir._"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well, look," Tony said, "she's not just some crackpot that snuck in off the street. Whoever sent her here intentionally sent her here."

Pepper turned on him, and Tony winced at the anger and anguish he saw staring back at him. She was quiet a moment before she finally said, "I can't take it anymore."

"What—"

"I can't take it, Tony. I can't. This whole…" She made some vague gestures with her hands before she let out a heavy sigh, looked dead at him and said the six most horrible words in the English language.

"I think we need to talk."


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

To be honest, Bruce wasn't sure whether he breathed a sigh of relief or had to swallow his hurt when the little girl, Olivia, cried and ran over to Tony, her 'Papa.'

He liked kids. There was a time when he thought maybe he'd have one or two of his own. But those days were gone, and he was content with the life he had now. Or he told himself he was, anyway. Because science was his first love, would always be his first love, and would always come first. The philanthropy went hand-in-hand with that. He was a doctor. He wanted nothing more to help people. He could help them with his science expertise.

But maybe for a moment, just a moment, there was a little pang of jealousy that hit him when that little girl had clung so tightly to Tony's legs and called him 'Papa' and had wanted nothing more than for him to scoop her up and comfort her in her time of need. And for a brief, brief moment, and one he was ashamed of, he wondered how it was fair that _Tony Stark_, the self-professed genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist that had never at any point in the month he'd known him given any thought to the idea of 'children' beyond the fact that they existed in the world, should be allowed that one thing Bruce himself could never, ever have.

(And not just biologically. Thanks to the Hulk, adoption was out of the question, too.)

Bruce had intended to take her up to the common floor but for some reason, the words, "Tony's floor," came out of his mouth as soon as they got on the elevator, and JARVIS didn't even question his choice. The doors opened to the penthouse, still in the midst of being rebuilt after the trashing it had gotten during the Battle, and Olivia bounded off and ran into the living room, stopping only a moment to question it like the placement of things looked unfamiliar to her before she dashed off toward the kitchen. Bruce sighed and followed after her, and she was just climbing up onto one of the high chairs at the island when he got to the kitchen.

"Need help?" he asked because even if he didn't know who she was, he had no desire to see her get hurt.

"No, I got it," she replied and finally got herself situated. "Unca Bruce, is An' Pepper mad at me?"

"Uh…" he said and went a little wide-eyed because, well, he didn't think Pepper was mad at _her_, necessarily, but he knew Pepper had been less-than-enthused with Tony's fraternity with what SI's brand-new head of security had termed the 'super friends.' Not that she didn't want Tony to have friends, and not that she disliked the 'super friends' exactly, but Bruce knew that Pepper knew that she was losing Tony to a world that she had no desire to join. Pepper was a businesswoman. She was about logic and practicality. She liked schedules and timetables. She liked knowing that when she got home at the end of the day, her lover was going to be there and not trapped on the other side of an alien wormhole. Pepper loved Tony Stark, but Bruce had the feeling Iron Man was someone she'd gladly dump in a landfill and never look back.

"Uh, no, honey, she's not mad at you."

She nodded like she'd assumed as much. "She's mad at Papa, isn't she? Did he miss th' board 'gain?"

"Does she get mad at your papa a lot?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. He hasta go to th' board sometimes, and sometimes he forgets to 'cause he's playin' with me 'n' Maddie, and then An' Pepper calls 'im and yells at 'im about it, and he tells her he's sorry an' to buy herself new shoes on him. What's that mean?"

He snorted a laugh. "It means that Tony and Pepper are going to be OK."

Or, at least, that version of Tony and Pepper were OK. No telling whether or not this version would be. If they were even different versions, anyway.

She frowned a little and tilted her head in confusion, but Bruce just shook his head and said, "Never mind. I'll tell you when you're older."

She rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance. "Daddy 'n' Papa tell me that _all the time! _And then when I ask 'em when 'm gonna be older, they just say, 'When you're older 'livia.'"

He tried to hide his smile because he didn't want her to think he was laughing at her, but the amount of fire in the belly of this four-year-old was a sight to behold. She was brazen and sure of herself, and whoever Tony had partnered with to raise her (someone much older than Tony, evidently), they had already done a pretty good job of making her feel like she was a valued member of society.

Or spoiled her. Spoiled her rotten. He was starting to lean towards the latter.

"Uh, so," he said and nodded at her purple t-shirt with the cartoon Avengers emblazoned on it. "They mass-market the Avengers?"

"Huh?"

"Your shirt. I see you have the Avengers on your t-shirt."

"Oh, yeah," she said and looked down at it. "These aren't the real 'vengers. These are the cartoon 'vengers that Papa says aren't anything like the real 'vengers."

"Well, they usually aren't. I see your papa on there."

"Yeah. Daddy is, too."

He almost choked on air. "Uh, your daddy?"

"Yeah."

"Your daddy's on your t-shirt, too?"

She rolled her eyes. "_Yes_, Unca Bruce!"

He swallowed and nodded toward her shirt. "So, uh — just checking to make sure you're still OK — you want to show me who 'Daddy' is?"

The little girl tugged at her shirt so it was splayed out over her torso, and with dawning horror filling his gut, she pointed to the Captain America emblazoned there and said, "That's Daddy," before she moved her small finger over to a fierce-looking Iron Man and added, "That's Papa."

"Captain America is your daddy?" he asked slowly, less for her sake than for his own because… yeah, this was…this was not making sense in his head. Clearly Tony's feelings for the Cap were not as purely based in animosity as he was trying to tell himself, but...wasn't the Cap straight?

But she just nodded resolutely and then leaned forward onto the tabletop again. "Yeah. He's a sup'rhero. He's being a sup'rhero with Anna Tasha and Unca Sam and Wanda."

'Anna Tasha' he had to assume was Natasha, but he was at a loss as to who 'Uncle Sam' and 'Wanda' were. He knew asking a four-year-old would be like bashing his head against the wall, though, and he was afraid the Other Guy wouldn't be able to handle it, so he just smiled and said, "How 'bout peanut butter and jelly?"

She shrugged. "OK," she said and bounced in the chair.

Bruce pulled the bread and the peanut butter from the cabinet and went over to the fridge to get the jelly, stealing glances back at the little girl with the big brown eyes and the blonde hair. She definitely looked like Tony; that was for sure. But there was something 'off' about the attitude. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't get that she _acted _like Tony. Looked like him, yes, but acted like him? No. And it wasn't Pepper, either, though hearing her call Tony's girlfriend 'An' Pepper' had already laid that question to rest, and he didn't envy either one of them in the least at the moment.

As he put the sandwich together, he heard Olivia quietly singing some song to herself — a really old one, he thought, maybe even from the forties, which...yeah, would probably make sense if the Cap was really her 'Daddy' — and when he turned around to hand her sandwich over, he saw that she was drawing patterns on the tabletop with her index finger, seemingly lost in her own little world. He set the sandwich down, and she stopped what she was doing and eyed it a moment before she said in a small voice, "Papa cuts it into little triangles."

"How little?"

She pressed her hands together in a triangle shape and then set the shape atop a quarter of the sandwich. "That little."

Quarters. OK, he could cut it into quarters. If she'd wanted bite-sized pieces, 'Papa' was getting his ass up here and doing it himself.

He pulled a knife out of the drawer and cut the sandwich into quarters, and Olivia happily picked up a quarter and bit into it, humming again as she bounced in the chair.

"Olivia, you probably shouldn't do that," he said, a warning tone in his voice, and she pouted a little and shrank down but stopped bouncing as she ate her sandwich.

"I hope Daddy comes home soon," she said as she bit into her third quarter.

Bruce startled a bit as he put the sandwich fixings away, but he regained control of the situation and said, "How long has he been gone?"

"Cuppa days. Papa says he'll be gone for a few weeks." She frowned up at Bruce and said, "Unca Bruce, how long is a few weeks?"

'Unca' Bruce. Jeez, this was not the sort of weirdness he'd thought he was getting himself into back in Calcutta.

"Uh," he said and leaned back against the counter. "Well, you said your…_daddy_…has been gone a couple days, right?" At her vigorous nod, her blonde ponytail bouncing, he added, "Well, a few weeks is lots of those 'couple days' put back-to-back." When she frowned and titled her head in some confusion, he continued, "It's a couple days, and then a couple more days, and then a couple more days, and then a couple more days after that," and at each instance of 'a couple days,' her brown eyes went wider and wider, her mouth falling open in shock and sadness.

"That's a long time!" she cried, the tiniest wobble evident in her voice. "Papa said it wouldn't be that long!"

Bruce just gave her a hesitant smile and said, "Well, Papa was probably… Papa probably has his reasons."

The little girl slouched in her hair, shoulders down, bottom lip pushed out, the makings of tears in her eyes. "I miss Daddy."

Bruce didn't know the Cap all that well. He seemed like the kind of guy that would be good with kids, but then again, he was part of that so-called 'Greatest Generation,' and history had them as not being the most affectionate or involved of fathers. Still, he didn't think he was overstepping his bounds too much when he said, "I'm sure he misses you, too. And I'm sure he can't wait to get home and see you again."

She just shrugged, her gaze cast down to her sandwich, but Bruce could tell the words had gotten through and had been much appreciated by her.

"So, uh," he cleared his throat, "does Daddy go away a lot?"

She shook her head, again in that vigorous way that kids did. "No. Sometimes he does, and Papa says, 'If you die out there this time, I'll kill you.'" She made a disgusted face. "And then they _kiss_."

Bruce burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. The revulsion on her face and in her voice was too funny for words. "They do, do they?" he asked through his laughs.

"Yeah," she grumbled and put the back of her hand to her mouth. "They go like this—"

And then she was kissing the back of her hand in the most obscene way that only a four-year-old that had watched her parents kiss time and again could muster. Which meant that it was equal parts hysterical and adorable to watch. He bit his lips to try to contain his mirth, and when that didn't work, he turned away and got a hold of himself before he turned back, his face schooled into something more neutral. Thankfully, Olivia had stopped and was back to munching on her sandwich.

"You don't like it when your parents kiss?"

She made a face. "It's gross."

"Well," he said good-naturedly, "someday you'll feel differently."

She rolled her eyes. "That's what they say," she muttered like she'd heard that excuse a thousand times before and was sick of it.

"You don't believe them?"

She glared at him point-blank. "Kissing is gross."

He snorted a laugh before he caught himself and went back to neutral again. "Are your daddy and your papa married?"

She nodded and took the last bite of her sandwich. "Yeah," she said with a mouthful of bread, peanut butter, and jelly. "They've always been married."

"Well, I don't know about _always_," he murmured, thinking about the horrible mess of things that was going on down in Tony's lab right at that moment. Clearly, though, they'd been married for as long as she'd been aware. "And you all live here?" he asked, trying to get as much information from her as possible.

She rolled her eyes again and huffed. "Yes, Unca Bruce!" she said with more haughtiness in her voice than any four-year-old had a right to muster. "We all do, 'member?"

"Pretend I forgot."

Her eyes went wide. "Do you have 'mesia?"

"Do I have _what_—?"

"Papa had 'mesia, 'member?" she said, not letting him get his question out. She sat up with her knees on the seat of the chair and put her hands on her hips. "He didn't know who I was!" she said like it was an affront to humanity. To her, it probably had been. "He had to go out and be Iron Man, and he got hurt real bad. Daddy cried 'cuz it took Papa a long time to wake up, and when he did, he didn't know who we were. He knew Daddy was Capt'in 'merica, but he didn't know he was married to Daddy."

"But Papa got his memory back?"

She shrugged and leaned forward onto the tabletop again. "Yeah, 'ventally." She gasped and sat back up on her knees again like she'd remember something important. "That's right! You weren't there! That's when Papa said you were in—" And she stopped a moment like she was trying to make sure she got the exact wording her papa had used. "—a piece 'f shit rat-hole on th' Ganges."

Bruce snorted another laugh. "Papa has a way with words. And don't say that word, Olivia. It's not nice."

"I know. Can I go play with Dummy?"

Bruce could tell she was getting antsy, the way she kept bouncing in her chair, but he wasn't sure it was a wise move to let her anywhere near Tony at the moment. He glanced up at the ceiling, and though he hated to intrude, he said, "JARVIS, are Tony and Pepper still talking?"

_"I'm not sure I'd characterize the communication between Sir and Miss Potts as 'talking,'_

_Doctor," _JARVIS replied. _"The exact nature of Sir and Miss Potts' verbal exchange is more along the lines of screaming and accusatory."_

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Great, they were fighting, and evidently loudly. "No one's thrown anything yet, have they?" he asked.

_"Miss Potts has threatened to imprint her shoe in Sir's face, but otherwise, the extent of their exchange has been limited to verbal accusations of wrongdoings and mistakes made since 1995."_

He sighed again. "Thank you, JARVIS," he murmured then turned to Olivia, who was looking up at the ceiling in confusion. "Sorry, kiddo," he said. "No-can-do on playing with Dummy at the moment."

"Why does Jarbus sound like Vision?" she asked and looked at him. Again, with that 'Vision.' Maybe Tony was right. Maybe she was from another dimension.

"I don't know, kiddo—"

"Where's Friday? Friday calls me 'Young Miss.' She calls Maddie 'Lil' Miss.'"

Bruce startled. "Uh, Maddie?" he asked. "Who— who's Maddie?"

She rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed by what she probably thought was a stupid question. "My sister."

Oh, yeah, that was really going to make this even better.

"OK, just once more to make sure you're OK," he said and tweaked a smile. "You have a sister?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah. She's two. She's quieter 'n me. Papa says she's more like him and I'm more like Daddy. Unca Hawky says I'm fulla piss'n vinegar."

Bruce slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing yet again. Good lord, this child was honest.

"So," he said when he was able to get control of himself once more, "does Uncle Hawky have a bow and arrow?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he shoots things. Papa calls him a birdbrain."

"That sounds like Tony," he murmured as JARVIS sounded out, "_Doctor Banner, I think I should mention that Miss Potts is coming up to the penthouse to retrieve some items. I think it would be best to keep Miss Olivia out of her sight for the time being_."

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, you're probably right," he murmured and glanced around for anything that would entertain a four-year-old until her father's — her _papa's _— newly former-girlfriend finished packing up her things. Or some of them, at least.

"Say, Olivia, you want to—"

He glanced back to the table and saw to his horror that there was no one there.

"Shit, _Olivia!_" he called and ran out of the kitchen. "Olivia, honey, where'd you go?"

He found her sprawled on the couch with the TV remote in her hand, and with what he knew was the elevator fast approaching, he scooped her up over her protests and ran over to the fire staircase. He pushed through the door and into the stairwell just as he heard the elevator ding its arrival, and he let out a breath of relief and carried Olivia down two flights of stairs then stopped on the landing and waited, her protests chirping in his ear. He let her whine for a few, long minutes then said, "I know, kid, but, uh— Hey! Want to, ah, head down to my floor for a little while?"

She stopped protesting and squirming and paused to look at him and— Good heavens, he wasn't crazy or anything, but that face. That disbelieving, disapproving face. That wasn't Tony looking at him.

That was the Cap.

He shook his head to rid himself of that impossibility as she asked a none-too-impressed, "_Why?_" He faltered for anything to say. "Uh…you don't normally visit me?"

She shrugged. "Papa says your floor's your private sanct'ary where you gots herbs and spices t' help y' calm down 'cuz you get real angry real eas'ly. I don't go there a lot."

"Oh," he said with a slight nod. "OK, well, how 'bout we go there just for a little while, huh? I'll uh—"

Jeez, did he even have anything that might be in the least bit interesting to a four-year-old? He cleared his throat and said, "JARVIS?"

"_Yes, Doctor Banner?"_

"How, uh, how long do you think it'll take Pepper to finish packing up? And do you have any suggestions for how to keep Tony Stark's four-year-old from getting too bored?"

"_Miss Potts has finished packing one bag and is currently working on filling another. Also, Sir was in the habit of building electronics at that age. Might I suggest a computer she could take apart and put back together?"_

He looked at the little girl in his arms. "You like computers?"

She shrugged. "They're OK," she said like she couldn't be bothered.

"Uh…do you like to build stuff?"

Again, she shrugged.

"Um…what do you like to do?"

"Draw 'n' play with my dolls 'n' play games."

"Like board games?"

She just frowned at him again. "I don't like boring games."

OK, so probably computer games. He was sure… Tony probably had _something _around here, right? He didn't have any dolls for her to play with, and he wasn't sure he had anything for her to color with. The Cap might have — he was sure the Cap had some art supplies — and even though this was his future or alternate-universe daughter, purportedly, he didn't think it was a good idea to go and purge his art supplies for the entertainment of a child. The Cap had had such a hard time allowing himself such a frivolous purchase that Tony, as it turned out, had had to make the transaction for him in the end.

Oh, Tony. You weren't fooling anybody.

"_Miss Potts is just leaving the penthouse now. It does not appear she will be returning at any time in the near future,_" JARVIS informed him after several long minutes, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Good. He could plop her in front of the TV and let her melt some brain cells there.

OK, so, maybe he wasn't exactly cut out for this parenting thing any more than Tony was.

He climbed back up the couple flights then set her down and went back over to the door, and he said, "OK, you can go back to watching TV now," but after she scurried through the door, she made a beeline for the steps that led up to the bedroom.

"Olivia!" he called after her. "Olivia, where are you going?"

He chased after her, taking breaths to make sure he kept himself calm because he wasn't sure that Olivia was aware of the whole situation with the Hulk, and there was no need to traumatize her any more than…

Actually, she didn't seem all that traumatized.

He got upstairs — he'd actually never been up here; this was Tony and Pepper's…OK, probably now just Tony's domain, and he hadn't felt right about intruding — and tried to follow the sounds of a four-year-old on the loose.

He found her in the room next to what he took to be Tony's, one that looked like it was being set up as an office, and he watched as she looked around with her hands on her hips and said, "Unca Bruce, wha' happ'ned t' all my stuff?"

"Uh…"

She turned back to him, her brown eyes wide in confusion and a little fear. "Unca Bruce, all my stuff's gone! That man took my stuff!"

"I don't think he's the one that took it, honey."

She bit her lip and looked like she was about to cry, and she took off out of the room, leaving him to groan and chase after her again.

"Papa!" she cried and took off down the steps, Bruce a few steps behind her. Jeez, she was fast! "Papa!"

"He's down in his workshop," Bruce said as the downstairs came in view, and he saw Tony just stepping off the elevator and making his way across the broad living area toward the refurbished bar. Olivia went flying down the steps, not even bothering to hold onto the railing, and Bruce's heart jumped into this throat as he watched, waiting for her to take a massive tumble.

"Papa!" she cried as she hit the landing and ran over to where Tony stood pouring himself a drink at the bar. "Papa, someone stolded my bedroom!"

Tony just glared at her over his glass as he downed the amber-colored beverage, but Olivia ignored his rather blatant seething anger and went to reach for his hand.

"Papa, come see!" she cried in fearful desperation. "Someone tooked my bedroom. It's all gone!"

As her small hands were about to make contact with Tony's, he yanked his hand away and snapped out a particularly nasty, "Don't touch me," at her.

Bruce had caught up but remained a few steps back, aware of the fact that getting too close to Tony was a surefire way of spooking him and sending him into a flight response. Especially for something like this.

"Papa, don't you want to see?" Olivia asked, hurt audible in her small and trusting voice. Tony just bared his teeth at her and made a gesture like he was trying to figure out if it was worth it or not to whip his glass at something.

"Yeah, not really." He poured himself another glass, threw it back, then slammed the glass on the bar and started to make his way back to the elevator.

"But Papa, my bed and my toys are gone. It's not even the right _color!_"

Tony whirled on her, fire in his eyes. "I am _not _your _'Papa,'" _he all but snarled at her, spitting the word 'Papa' out like it tasted of poison. "I am never going to _be _your 'Papa,' so stop acting like I give a shit about your existence beyond figuring out how the fuck soon I can get you back to where you belong."

Olivia's eyes went wide, and she shrank back at his tone and demeanor, clearly unaccustomed to so much venom being directed at her from someone with such a familiar face.

Tony spun on his heel and stormed over to the elevator, and JARVIS opened the doors immediately. As soon as the doors had closed, Olivia's face screwed up into hurt and fear, and she took off running.

"Oh, shit," he muttered to himself then called out, "Olivia! Olivia, don't be like that! Your Papa, he…"

He sighed and trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair. This was not the sort of weirdness he'd pictured back in Calcutta at all.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

A daughter.

A fucking daughter.

A fucking daughter that had just fucking ruined the best fucking thing that had ever happened to him.

He twisted something on the exoskeleton for the suit and scowled as the pliers slipped and jammed into his opposite hand.

"Fuck," he muttered and stuck his palm in his mouth to suck up the blood. "Fuck."

The door to the workshop opened, and Bruce slouched through looking sad and a little humbled. He rolled his eyes and moved away from the suit and over to the station where he kept the first aid supplies.

"_What?_" he snapped as he pulled out a bandage roll and wrapped it around his hand to stem the bleeding. He should have disinfected first, but fuck it.

Bruce took a breath, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he said, "Tony, don't you think you're being a little hard on her?"

"Hard on her?" he asked and pushed away from Bruce as he moved over to the worktable. "Hard on her?" he asked and sat down, putting pressure on his hand to stop the blood. It was coming through the gauze, but again, fuck it. "First of all, she appeared out of thin air. I am under no obligation to her whatsoever. Second, because of her, the best thing that's ever happened to me decided we're better off as friends. Third—"

"She's your daughter, Tony."

Tony shoved away from the table and began to pace the lab like a caged animal. "She is _not _my daughter, and fuck you for saying that!"

"She looks like you, Tony."

Tony continued to pace. "Which doesn't even make any _sense_. And where the hell did she even come from? A _hole _opened up in my workshop, and suddenly she falls out of it? Besides, I don't know if she's even actually my daughter at all."

Bruce looked at him blandly. "You couldn't have JARVIS run a DNA scan?"

That…was not a half-bad idea.

He went back over to the first aid kit and grabbed a cotton swab out of it. "Here, Uncle Bruce. Go get a swab for me."

Bruce just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Look, me being within twenty feet of that brat probably isn't in the best interests of either one of us right now. So, just…go get a swab and get back here. She probably just _looks _like me. She isn't really mine."

While Bruce went to go get the swab, Tony was able to stew in his anger and remorse — or _not _stew, to be perfectly honest, because he wasn't thinking about this. He wasn't thinking about some magical brat that suddenly appeared out of the blue, he wasn't thinking about the best thing that had ever happened to him leaving him high and dry, and he wasn't thinking about—

"God, _fuck!_" he cried out as the screwdriver slipped this time and hit his already sliced hand. He whipped it across the workshop then put firm pressure on his still-bleeding hand.

A drink. He wasn't thinking about how much he needed another fucking drink.

He blinked, tears filling his eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was from the pain in his hand or the emotional turmoil of the past two hours. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. He'd tried, he'd tried so hard, but Pepper wouldn't listen. Just kept saying she couldn't handle it any longer, she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't keep picking up after him, cleaning up his messes, watching from the sidelines as he threw himself into the pit once again. He all but begged her to stay, and he told her he couldn't live without her — which he couldn't — but she just shook her head, tears streaming down her own face, and said she couldn't do this any longer. She could be his CEO, and she could be his friend, but she couldn't be his girlfriend.

Well, was that really a surprise? She left him. Who didn't leave him?

He took the pressure off his hand and looked at how the blood had soaked through the gauze. He scowled and got up to get another wrap, and he had just put the second one on when Bruce came back with the swab.

"Where do you want me—?" he tried to ask, but Tony just pointed to the worktable and mumbled something about that being good enough.

Bruce set it down, and he sat down in the adjacent chair quietly and just watched as Tony finished re-bandaging his hand, and as Tony got back to his workstation and began the setup for the DNA scan, Bruce said, "What about an alternate universe?"

"What about it?" he muttered, not looking up from his task.

"Did you try telling Pepper you think she's from an alternate universe?"

He snorted in derision. "Like that did any good. No, Brucie, it wasn't just the magic kid appearing out of the blue. She was just the last straw, the proverbial one that broke the camel's back. In this case, the camel's back is Pepper's unconditional love for me—"

"_Tony_," Bruce murmured, but Tony scowled at him.

"Look, I'm not really in the mood to talk about it right now. I don't really give a shit whether she shares any biological signatures with me or not, I still have to figure out a way of getting her home."

"Olivia?" Bruce asked, like he wasn't able to follow Tony's train of thought and wasn't quite sure who he was talking about.

Of course, not that Tony knew who _Bruce _was talking about.

"Who's that?"

Bruce just blinked. "Uh...your daughter? Didn't you hear her tell us her name?"

He shrugged and plugged in the necessary parameters to the program. "Wasn't really paying attention. Didn't think I'd need to care—"

"_Tony_—"

He huffed and grimaced as the slice in his hand ached with every keystroke he made. "Look, Bruce," he said and stopped in the middle of what he was doing to look up at him. "Maybe you've got some natural rapport with kids, but I don't. I never did. I don't _hate _them, but I just...I don't have the same kind of rapport with them like other people do. I never really... It was never something I wanted. It was never something I thought I'd be. So, I'm sorry that I'm not Ward fucking Cleaver, all right? Right now, all I care about is..."

He sighed and exhaled a breath as he clicked the button to run the program. "I don't know why I'm even bothering with this."

Bruce smiled at him, a little wry and a little sad. "Because deep down you want to know."

"Why? She's from an alternate universe—"

"Who says?"

"Common sense," he replied. "Look, it's just... She's clearly from another universe. She's not from our timeline. She can't be."

"Why?"

"Because she's not."

Bruce just stared at him. "Why, Tony? Why can't she be? Why isn't she?"

Tony didn't have an answer, and he just shook his head a little and said, "She's probably not even mine, anyway."

~*~

That theory was shot to hell a few hours later when JARVIS finished his analysis and the results — those horrible, horrible results — flashed on his screen.

He put his head in his hands. This was… This wasn't possible.

"Congratulations, Papa," Bruce said and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's a girl."

Tony groaned and ran his hands down his face, and he picked his head up and said, "This doesn't make any sense. Where the fuck did she even come from? How the fuck did she even get here?

I've had JARVIS run the security feed for the hour before she showed up. Nothing. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary until that…thing…opens and she shows up in the lab. But yet, she doesn't know who JARVIS is. She keeps talking about something called 'Friday,' she's naming people we've never even heard of—"

Bruce shrugged. "It's one of two things: she's either from the future or she's from another dimension."

Tony shot him a sour look. "Oh, well, thanks, Lieutenant Columbo—"

"He was a homicide detective," Bruce said with a sigh, but Tony kept going.

"—that really narrows it down. You know, I've been meaning to pull the DeLorean out of storage. I guess this is as good a time as any, though if she's from another dimension, maybe I should look more into asking the Doctor if I can borrow his TARDIS—"

"Tony," Bruce said with a sigh.

He put his head in his hands and ran them back through his hair, grabbing on like the pain would somehow give him the answers or make everything better.

"I can't do this, Bruce. I can't. Look, wherever she came from, we have _no way _of finding out for certain, and you know what that means? We have _no way _of getting her back there. The future, an alternate universe, that is so far beyond the realm of what we can accomplish, it's not even funny, and I can't— We can't keep her here. I can't _raise _her. And did you—? Did you hear what she _said_? She has a _daddy_, Bruce. A daddy that's an _old man_. That's older than I am. Look, I know I'm no spring chicken, but, Jesus, did I end up with some geriatric patient or something? What the hell was future me or alternate universe me even thinking? From Pepper to an _old man?_"

Bruce just sighed a little but didn't say anything, and Tony shook his head and sat back down at his worktable.

"Look, she's got to be from an alternate universe," he said.

"Why?"

"Because," he replied with a somewhat embarrassed shrug. "It's nothing. It's just…I just know it."

"How do you know it?" Bruce asked and sat down at the chair beside the worktable.

"What are you?" Tony muttered. "My therapist?"

"_Tony—_"

"All right, look, I just assumed if I ever had a kid — and not that I was thinking of ever having kids — but if I ever did, if I ever had a daughter, I'd name her after my mother."

"Maria," Bruce supplied.

"Yeah, and her name evidently is _not _Maria. It's Olivia. Which probably was something suggested by my old man of a husband, who I just— Do you think we have sex? You think his old ticker can take it?"

Bruce made a face. "Tony, I don't think that's something we should really discuss—"

"Why not? I just assumed it was an open secret— And 'secret' isn't really the right word because I'm not trying to keep it from anybody. I just never went blabbing about it. Anyway, I sort of… It's very…"

"I don't have a problem with you marrying a man, Tony," Bruce said. "I just don't think it's something you'd want us discussing."

"Uh, we're discussing it right now."

"I mean _future _you," Bruce replied with a slight roll of his eyes. "Somehow, I don't think he'd want us discussing this."

"Yeah, big green? Here's the thing: I _am _future me. Well, I mean, I'm the past version of future me. I think I'd know what future me is thinking better than you, and right now, I don't think there's any problem with us discussing my future self's sex life — or lack thereof."

Bruce just shook his head. "Whatever, Tony."

"I mean, it has to be a lack thereof, right? The man's older than I am. Can he even get it up?"

"You know, if it's any consolation, to hear your daughter tell it—"

"Don't _ever_, ever say that again—"

"—you seem to be very happy with your _old man_."

Tony made a face. "Whatever," he muttered. "What else did that little brat say?"

Bruce blew out a breath. "How long have you got?"

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"She talks a lot. After I got her calmed down after you all but bit her head off—"

Tony made a displeased noise in the back of his throat and didn't even try to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes. Bruce just stared at him flatly before he continued.

"She usually takes a nap after lunch, so I put her down on the couch in the penthouse. She, uh, she lives here, obviously. With you and her Daddy. She likes to draw and color and paint and play with dolls and play games. Evidently computer games. She's gone on about Natasha, Clint, and even Thor. She said something about a 'Mad Eye,' which is definitely something she picked up from you. There were a whole bunch of other people she mentioned, too. A Sam and a Wanda and even a Hank Pym—"

"Pym?" Tony asked, startled. "Where the hell would she even have heard that name?"

Bruce shrugged. "Don't know. She's not too pleased that her room is gone — it's the one next to yours in case you were wondering."

"Not really," he said and sat back, thinking. "So, let me get this straight." He began to count off on his fingers. "She knows who I am, she knows who you are, she knows who Pepper is. She's mentioned Romanoff, Barton, and Thor. I'm pretty sure 'Mad Eye' is Fury—"

"Which makes sense considering she explicitly said it was something she got from you," Bruce said, but Tony ignored him and continued counting.

"She says JARVIS sounds like someone she knows called 'Vision.' She talks about a Wanda and a Sam. She even knows who Hank fuckin' Pym is. But she has not once made any mention of Cap."

"And how did I know it would come back to Cap?" Bruce murmured, but Tony blatantly ignored him.

"Doesn't…doesn’t that strike you as suspicious? Either that shirt she's wearing is completely out of date or golden-boy Cap is too good to hang out with the proletarians."

Bruce gave him a flat look. "Do you really think you're a member of the proletariat?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "The point is she doesn't talk about Cap like he's part of this tower of misfits. Has she mentioned him once?"

Bruce shrugged. "Like saying 'Captain America'?" He paused a moment in thought. "Um…I'm not sure."

Tony motioned at him. "Which clearly means that she hasn't."

"She talks about her daddy a lot, though."

Tony groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah, that…"

"Hey, no big deal," Bruce said and shrugged. "You love who you love."

Tony just ground the heels of his palms into his eyes then peeked one eye at Bruce. "Not the issue with it, Brucie-goosey. I'd actually be very disappointed in you if that was one of your hang-ups."

Bruce frowned at him. "Then…what is the problem?"

Tony groaned again and splayed himself out over the table. Yeah, it was a bit overdramatic, but it fit the mood.

"Marriage, big green," he said, his words somewhat muffled by the table.

"You're going to have to give me a bit more than that, Tony."

He heaved out an exaggerated sigh and sat back up. "I am a clusterfuck of epic proportions," he said and flicked through a few screens on the monitor beside him. He only half-paid attention to what any of them were. "I should come with a warning label. Caution: prolonged exposure may lead to jamming an ice pick in eye socket. Or something like that."

"Tony, that's not—"

"You said that little squirt claims that we're married." He began to fiddle with some of the implements laying on the table. "Not you and me, clearly, but me and…whoever this 'Daddy' person is. And that's great and all, whatever. But I just…I'm not the marrying type."

A complete lie, of course. He totally would have asked Pepper to marry him someday if that little brat hadn't ruined it for him. Not that Bruce needed to know this.

"Well, evidently—"

Tony pointed a stylus at Bruce. "Don't even think of finishing that, jolly green."

Bruce sighed out a breath and said, "Tony, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit—"

"I'm giving myself exactly as much credit as I should." He rubbed a hand over his face again. "Look," he said and went back to fiddling with the stylus in his hand, "Pep and I couldn't even make it work, and I can't make it work with Pepper…"

"Well, I think the four-year-old calling her 'Aunt Pepper' is actually what did it."

"But it wasn't anything that wasn't a long time coming!" He pointed the stylus at Bruce again and added, "Incidentally, once that actually hits me, I'm going to go through my cache of liquor pretty quickly, so…"

Bruce sat back and held his hands up. "I'm not enabling you. I refuse to get involved."

Tony made a face at him. "Yeah, like you refused to get involved in the Avengers Initiative. How's that working out for you?"

Bruce frowned. "I could have been in Calcutta," he said almost wistfully.

"So, say I get a little too shitfaced to—"

"I'm not doing that, Tony," Bruce said with a shake of his head. "And if you're really so set on getting Olivia back home where she belongs, I think your best bet is to stay as sober as possible."

"Well, you're no fun," Tony grumbled with a pout. "I wanted lessons in morality, I'd hang out with Captain Stick-up-his-ass."

Bruce made some sort of horrible sound like he was choking on something, and Tony sat back a bit, startled, as he watched Bruce choke on…air? Saliva? There weren't any food or drinks around them, he realized as he did quick scan of the table.

"You OK there, Brucie-boo?" Tony asked as Bruce coughed it out and seemed to get a hold of himself.

"Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded a little strained, but Tony couldn't tell from what or why. "Just, uh, an interesting visual there."

Ah. So, he was picturing Cap—

He grinned and leaned a little closer. "You think Cap takes it that way? Gets on all fours, spreads himself wide, begs for a pounding. You know those overly-macho types are always overcompensating for something."

Bruce made a squeamish face and pulled back a little, and there was a hint of hesitance in his voice as he said, "I don't think we should be talking about this."

"What? Speculating on Cap's sex life — or lack thereof, anyway? Come on, you don't think he's some ninety-three-year-old virgin, do you? And even if he were — especially if he were — don't you think he'd be practically salivating to get his rocks off already? Guy's a fucking monk, as far as I can tell. And, look, I get that he's older than dirt and he comes from a time where people were more backward and repressed than they are today, but that's not the repression of someone that fantasizes about the half of society that has two 'X' chromosomes. That's the repression of someone that fantasizes about getting on his knees and sucking brain."

Bruce just raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure of that?" he asked, his tone flat.

Tony shrugged. "Fits the profile."

"No offense, Tony," Bruce said, "but you seem to have put an awful lot of thought into the Cap's sexual preferences."

"Not really. Doesn't take a genius to figure out the guy probably prefers to take it that way." "But you seem…awfully detailed about it. Like you've definitely thought about it before."

Tony hummed in thought a moment then said, "If you're asking if I fantasize about Captain America on his knees with his mouth stretched over my cock—"

"_Please _don't finish that thought!"

"—the answer is 'yes.'"

Bruce sighed but said nothing.

"I mean, let's be honest here. The guy has a gorgeous mouth. And he was an art student. In New York. In the thirties. I'm sure he knows how to use it."

"I'm getting distinct shades of a power-play fantasy here. And I hate to break it to you, but Cap strikes me as the type that likes to be in charge _all _the time."

"You're saying I'm the one that would be on my knees for him?"

Bruce closed his eyes and grimaced. "Please just stop talking already."

But Tony just shrugged and said, "Well, if we're being honest—"

"We don't have to be."

"—sure, yeah, there's worse people to suck off. I mean, could you imagine saying you sucked off Captain America?"

Bruce continued to make that squeamish face. "I can honestly say it's never once crossed my mind."

"Probably has star-spangled come."

"But I see it's crossed yours once or twice."

OK, Brucie-boy might have had him there.

He twitched his mouth from side-to-side. "Let's just say fantasies of me and Cap go way back. Clearly, they're from before I met the sanctimonious son-of-a-bitch with his stupid, out-of-fashion hair and his perfect teeth, but I'm not going to deny I've had them in the past. I'm not ashamed of it. The man is literally the peak of human perfection. I'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb _not _to want to tap that."

Bruce smirked at him. "Thanks," he said a little bemusedly, but Tony waved him off.

"I'll just assume your idiocy is due to you being straight-as-an-arrow. But you have to at least objectively be able to admit that Cap is physically very appealing. His disposition could use a little work. I mean, it's a shame that such a pretty package has to have such a cold and impersonal and bitter inside. I almost want to say that he doesn't _deserve _to be as attractive as he is, not if he's going to act like such a jerk— What?"

He frowned and watched as Bruce checked his watch. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" Bruce said and continued to examine his watch. "Oh, just checking to see how long you've been going on about Cap for. For someone you claim to dislike so much, you talk about him an awful lot."

Tony just stared at him, opening and closing his mouth a few times without uttering a sound.

"Come on, Tony, let's face it. If we were on a playground, you'd be pulling his hair and calling him names."

Tony just blinked at him. "Are you trying to say I'm covering up my real feelings for him?" "I'm trying to say that you keep telling yourself that you don't like the guy beyond wanting him to…" He made a gesture at Tony that he guessed he was supposed to take as wanting Cap to suck him off. "But clearly, it's a lot more than that."

Tony snorted a laugh. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "Are you kidding me? You _really _think I'd use him for anything more than a pump-and-dump?"

Bruce weighed his response to this before he said, "Yeah, I do. I think you're covering up the fact that you _do _like the guy more than that, but you're convinced he doesn't see you as anything more than a vain, spoiled, entitled brat, so you keep telling yourself he's a jerk and he's not worth your time because admitting that other thing? Well, there's a chance you could get hurt that way."

Tony just glared at him, jaw set, and he shoved away from the table and went over to another workstation.

"You forgot the part where I'm not the oh-so-wonderful Howard," he muttered and began to swipe at screens without bothering to really read what was on them.

"Has he said that to you?" Bruce asked, clear interest and a little bit of defense in his voice.

"He doesn't have to. He _worked _with Howard during the war. Howard made him what he is. He's the real McCoy. I'm the cheap knock-off."

"Did he say that to you?" Bruce asked again.

"No," he said with a slightly defensive shrug, choosing not to look at Bruce. "But I'm sure it's what he's thinking. It's what everyone that's ever met me thinks — anyone that knew Howard and gets stuck with me, anyway."

He sighed out a groan and turned to Bruce.

"Look, cards on the table, fine, I…find the guy attractive. Maybe I even want him to like me. But it's not going to happen, so it's not worth even thinking about. We work together. That's it."

He watched as Bruce frowned at him, almost like he was pitying him.

"I don't think you give him or yourself enough credit, Tony. I don't think he wishes you were your father— All right, maybe at first," he added at Tony's unimpressed look. "But I've never once heard him say it, and I've never heard any of the others talking about it."

"He holds his cards close to the vest. I don't think he _would _tell anyone about it."

"So, you're just assuming he hates you and wishes you were your father without a shred of evidence?"

Tony made a sour face at him. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"_Sir,_" JARVIS cut in, "_Miss Olivia is awake and is asking for you. She is most enthused about seeing the 'bots, in particular DUM-E. I am also told that I am not as much fun as someone called 'Friday.'"_

Tony groaned and rubbed a hand over his face, and Bruce murmured, "Go easy on the kid. She is your daughter."

"Or some version of me, anyway."

"_Tony._"

"Fine," he said and pulled his hand back. "J, send her on down."

"_As you wish, Sir_."

He met Bruce's gaze, and he rolled his eyes at Bruce's little smile and shook his head.

"I guess I can deal with the brat until we figure out some way of getting her back home. I know how I felt when I knew my old man didn't want me around."

"If it makes you feel any better, she thinks the sun rises and sets with you, and future you seems to have a good relationship with her."

"Not particularly," he said with a shrug and swiped at a few more screens. "Cap's good with kids. When's he supposed to be getting back?"

"Uh," Bruce said and scratched at the back of his head, and if Tony didn't know better, he'd think there was something a little nervous or fishy about the way Bruce was suddenly holding himself. "Dunno. Few days, I think? Few weeks? I wasn't here when they left. I got the news from you, so…"

"Oh," he said and sat back down at the table opposite Bruce. He grabbed a stylus again and began toying with it. "Guess it would have been beneficial to pay attention to what Cap or the Spy Twins were saying."

"You spend enough time staring at Steve's mouth," Bruce said with a sly smile. "You'd think a few words would register every now and then."

Tony pointed the stylus at him. "That stays between us."

Bruce held his hands up in surrender but didn't say anything just as the door opened and the little blonde-haired, brown-eyed girl toddled on through like she'd been there a thousand times in the past.

His daughter. His fucking daughter. Not that he'd ever believed — all right not since he was a kid — in a god (OK, _the _God), but now he knew for certain there was no such thing. No God in his right mind would dare burden anyone with him as their father.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Bruce asked because, yeah, it figured even _Bruce _had a rapport with kids.

The little girl yawned and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." She bounded over to Tony and began to climb onto his lap, starling Tony, who looked over at Bruce in a panic for help. Bruce just laughed a little and held up his hands again as though to imply to Tony that he was on his own for this one.

Thankfully, the kid did most of the work for him, though with her now on his lap, it did make trying to work on the armor upgrades a bit tricky. A lot tricky. Look, he was fine burning himself on solder, but he wasn't about to chance burning a four-year-old.

"Are you happy now, Papa?" she asked with that sort of innocence only a child could get away with.

"Uh, yeah, sure, kiddo," he replied because what the hell else was he supposed to say? It seemed to work, but the kid's face clouded over a bit at that, her eyes narrowing and a little crease forming between her brows as she pursed her lips.

"You get cranky when Daddy goes 'way," she said, hands on her hips. "Imna hafta tell Daddy not t' go 'way anymore 'cuz you get cranky when he does."

Tony shared a look with Bruce, who looked like he was trying desperately hard not to laugh. "She's an honest one, isn't she?"

"Turns out she has that reputation back at home, too," Bruce said with a genial chuckle. And then, because if there _was _a God, he hated him that much—

"I still can't find Maddie anywhere!"

Tony's blood chilled, and he met Bruce's now nervous gaze and asked a very even and totally not terrified, "Who's 'Maddie'?"

Bruce's mouth twitched a bit before he grimaced a little and said, "Your _younger _daughter."

Attempting to keep his tone as even as possible, he swallowed and said, "There's more of them?"

"Just the two," Bruce replied.

"But this is the only one that showed up, right?" Bruce nodded.

Well, thank heaven for small mercies.

"Did she go with An' Pepper?"

"Uh," Bruce said, "does she usually?"

"Nah," she said and shook her head. "An' Pepper usually takes me out, and we go for lunch, and we get our hairs done, and sometimes she lets me sit at her desk and pretend I'm important."

Tony rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the way his stomach clenched in distraught…ness— was that a word? —at the mere mention of Pepper's name. He glanced at his watch. It had only been about six hours, and it still hadn't really hit him what had happened, but he knew it would, and he knew when it did, he would blame no one but himself—

And the talkative little brat sitting on his lap.

"Well," Bruce said, and Tony wasn't sure if he was relieved or annoyed that he had some rapport with the brat, "maybe your Aunt…Pepper…thought it was time to pay some attention to your sister, too?"

Olivia huffed and folded her arms as she rolled her eyes. "I guess," she muttered like it annoyed her to say so.

"_Sir," _JARVIS butted in again, "_Colonel Rhodes has arrived_."

"Oh, thank god," he muttered. Someone else for his side, even if—

Wait, Rhodey was in town? Oh, that's right. Rhodey was... They had plans, didn't they? Fuck, maybe he'd been hitting the sauce a little too hard lately.

"Send him on up, J—" he said. "And, hey, might wanna warn him about what we've got here so he's not completely surprised when he walks in."

"_I shall endeavor to do that, Sir_."

Tony glanced down and saw the brat was looking up at the ceiling with a look of intrigue and irritation, and she pursed her small mouth and said, "I like Friday better. Papa, why can't it be Friday?"

"I don't even know who 'Friday' is, and why are you looking up like that? You know JARVIS isn't actually in the ceiling, right?"

"_Tony_—" Bruce said in a warning tone, and Tony realized he'd gotten a little snappish with the kid.

Still, he scowled and waved Bruce off as the kid said, "Yeah, I know, but Daddy always does it."

"Well, clearly, your daddy's an idiot. An old man and an idiot."

"_Tony_."

Tony just looked up and met Bruce's gaze. "You know what other idiot does that? Cap. Always looks up at the ceiling when he's talking to JARVIS like he can actually see him up there or something. And this is the man we're trusting our national defense to."

Bruce let out a heavy sigh and said, "Steve's the kind of guy that likes to look directly at the person he's addressing."

"So, he considers JARVIS a person?"

Bruce smiled at him a little. "Probably as much as you do."

Tony could do nothing but clamp his mouth shut.

"He's not really sure _where _to look when he's addressing JARVIS, so I guess the ceiling makes the most sense to him," Bruce added. "Stop trying to pick him apart. You're not doing yourself any favors."

Tony mocked Bruce but didn't actually vocalize the words, and Bruce just shook his head and muttered something about how he could have been in Calcutta when the lab door opened, and Rhodey strode in wearing civvies and a perplexed look on his face. He glanced over at Tony and stopped short when he saw the little blonde girl sitting on Tony's lap.

"So, he wasn't mistaken," Rhodey said as Olivia cried out, "Unca Rhodey!" at him and held out her arms like she wanted him to pick her up.

"I take it JARVIS informed you about our guest?"

Rhodey moved over to his side, slowly, like he was still trying to assess the situation before him. "He said your _daughter _was in the workshop with you." He glanced back at Bruce before he turned back to Tony. "You're not really falling for this, Tones, are you?"

Tony just reached up and began to smooth back the soft wisps of bangs from the kid's head. He didn't know why he was doing it, but it seemed an almost…natural motion to him.

"Well, she did just appear out of thin air. _Literally_. And I had JARVIS run a DNA scan, which seemed to come up positive. Plus, even I can't deny the fact that she does look a little like me. She knows me and Bruce and evidently you." He motioned at the bot charging in the corner. "She even knows that dunce over there."

"There he is!" she said quietly like she'd just remembered something.

"The only one she doesn't seem to know is JARVIS, who she keeps saying sounds like someone called 'Vision.' She knows Pepper and the Spy Twins. She's mentioned a bunch of other people I've never heard of. In fact, the _only _person she hasn't actually talked about is golden-boy Cap, who, from what I can gather, is too good to hang out with our little band of heroes."

"Papa, can I play with Dummy?"

Rhodey's eyebrows almost hit his hairline at Olivia's familial name for him. "Not now. He's charging."

She grumbled and folded her arms. "I want my toys."

"Well, I don't know where they are."

"Maybe Steve has some art stuff down in his quarters that she could play with?" Bruce suggested. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Olivia just gasped and sat upright. "I can't do _that_."

"Why not?" Tony asked and stopped petting her hair.

She turned on him accusingly. "You said I'm not s'pposed t' touch that stuff! You said, 'Those aren't toys for you t' play with, Olivia.'"

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him and leaned against the table. "What were you saying about no Cap?"

Tony ignored him and kept his attention on the kid. "Wait, I told you not to play with Cap's stuff?"

"Not when he's not here." She furrowed her brow and considered him. "Why are you calling him 'Cap'?"

"Uh, why not? What else am I supposed to call him?"

Olivia pursed her lips and put a finger to her mouth. "It 'pends." She began to count off on her fingers. "Sometimes it's 'Steven.' That's when you're telling him stuff and you think you're right. Sometimes it's 'honey' when he's bein' 'xtra stubborn 'bout stuff and you think he's bein' stupid. Sometimes it's 'babe.' That's usually when he comes home and you two _kiss _and stuff." She made a face like this was the worst thing she'd ever seen. "But usually when you're talkin' 'bout him, you call him 'Daddy.'"

His hand fell away from the top of her head, and his stomach dropped out from under him.

Daddy.

Steve Rogers — Captain America — was Olivia's 'Daddy.' He was 'Papa,' and Cap — Steve — was 'Daddy.'

Steve Rogers was his husband. And evidently an old man.

"Tony?" he heard Rhodey say from somewhere. "Tones, you still with us?"

"He's been actin' real funny all day," a little childlike voice said. "It's 'cuz Daddy's gone 'way on a mission. He always gets funny when Daddy goes away."

"Uh, you know what?" Bruce said, and Tony, dazed, glanced at him. "Why don't we keep the 'Daddy' talk to a minimum, OK? I think…I think you might have broken your Papa."

He felt two small hands slap against either side of his face, and the next thing he knew, eyes the same color as his were boring into him.

"Papa, are you OK? Unca Bruce says I broked you. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

And then he felt two small arms wrap around his neck and a small, soft cheek press against his. He blinked and involuntarily put his arms around the small body, hugging it close and feeling a weird sort of protectiveness come over him. Six months ago, he wouldn't have believed anything like this could happen — that some kid would pop into his lab and claim to be his and he would believe it without several weeks of thorough analysis. But that was before dead super soldiers from the '40s had come back to life and gods from other realms had come to do battle on their planet and weird alien wormholes had opened up over the skies of midtown Manhattan. It was before he'd ventured into another world — something that still gave him nightmares and anxiety and he was _not _thinking about any of that right now, thank you very much — and seen a threat far greater than any of them could have ever imagined.

Now, a child from the future that desired nothing but love and affection from him didn't seem so bad. OK, there was still the little matter of who 'Daddy' was, and that…that was a little harder to compute. He actually had been full of shit when he'd been talking to Bruce before. He didn't actually think the Cap was that way. Cap was too perfect, too righteous, too all-American to be anything but a God-fearing heterosexual from the '40s. So, maybe this _wasn't _his daughter?

Maybe she _was _from an alternate universe — a universe where Steve Rogers wouldn't just be attracted to a man but would actually _marry _him.

Unless they weren't _actually _married. Look, she was, what, four? It's not as though she actually understood what 'marriage' was. Clearly she understood what 'kissing' was — Jesus, she hadn't seen them do anything beyond that, had she? No, probably not. She was enough of a chatterbox to have let that slip at some point — if not to him then to Bruce earlier or even 'Unca Rhodey.' Poor child seemed to be afflicted with a serious case of nonexistent-filter disease. Which made sense for a trait of his nowadays, but he'd actually been a pretty quiet and reserved kid — the exact opposite of this little whirlwind that probably thought she ruled the world.

He supposed she got that from whoever the mother happened to be. A surrogate, most likely, though why he or Cap — Jesus Christ, how in the hell did that _even…? _— would have thought bringing a child into this crazy tower was a great idea was beyond him.

Then again, the answer was right in front of him. "She's from an alternate universe."

"How do you know?" Bruce asked, and Tony scoffed at him, but he didn't lessen the hold on the kid any. It was…kind of comforting, actually. It actually felt kind of _right _— like he could feel deep in his bones that this _was _his flesh and blood, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

OK, maybe it was time to let the brat go.

He lessened his hold and pulled her away so she was back to just sitting on his lap and not hugging him. "Did you not hear who her 'Daddy' is?" he asked and looked between Rhodey and Bruce. "Even if I felt that way about Captain Needs-to-Learn-How-to-Take-a-Joke, which I clearly don't—" he shot a glare at Bruce, even though Rhodey was the one to say, _Yeah, sure you don't, Tones_, "—it's pretty clear our Cap doesn't swing that way." He sighed out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. "Of course, that's going to make it a hell of a lot harder to get her back where she belongs."

"Wait, hold on," Rhodey said and stood back a step. "An alternate universe kid showing up on your doorstep is perfectly believable, but Captain America having the hots for you is a bridge too far?"

"You've never met the guy. I don't think he's had an impure thought in his life."

"And not only did she pop in from an alternate universe but she showed up from a _future _alternate universe," Bruce added, barely able to cover up his disbelief.

"Hey, I don't make the rules here."

"Papa, can I go play with Dummy now?"

"Yeah, sure, kid."

Olivia cried out in delight and slid off Tony's lap. She went over to Bruce and grabbed his hand and said, "Come on, Unca Bruce! We'll play fetch!"

"I don't know if it's such a good thing to—"

But Olivia had succeeded in pulling him away from his chair and over to the charging station where DUM-E suddenly perked up, whirring and beeping in anticipation of much-desired attention. Tony watched them in slight bemusement before he remembered that Rhodey still stood to his side, gazing at him in confusion and concern.

"I'm not dying again," he offered as an opening, glancing to him out of the corner of his eye. "No, I didn't think you were," Rhodey said, still with that appraising look on his face, hands shoved in his pockets as he looked Tony over. "I think you've gotten a little too accepting of weird shit that you would have denied and tried to prove wrong beforehand."

"She looks like me."

"I didn't say she doesn't. I've seen the pics of you as a kid. She's you with blonde hair. The attitude's all wrong, but I can't deny she looks like you."

"She clearly believes what she's saying. I don't think anyone's that good an actor at that age."

Rhodey leaned against the table and folded his arms. "So, that's it? She looks like you and she believes what she's saying, so she must be your future daughter from another dimension?"

Tony pushed out of his chair and went over to the counter where DUM-E had left the blender carafe with the smoothie mixture in it.

"You have a better explanation, buttercup? 'cause if you do, I'm all ears."

He grabbed a glass from a cabinet and poured out half the mixture into it. Rhodey hadn't moved from the table, and he could hear the joyful shrieks of a child playing with her robot buddy and one of her 'Uncles,' but he ignored them all and poured half the drink down his throat.

"You think maybe it's some sort of extortion scheme from one of your conquests over the years?" Rhodey called out to him. He whirled around and made a sour face at him.

"First of all, she fell out of a…portal." He took a breath to try to quell his nerves and pressed forward, pushing the thought of 'portals' out of his mind. "But sure, let's go with your angle. So, in some future alternate universe, some former flame that's just looking for a quick payout was able to send the kid back here, and not only that, but coached the kid to say that not only am I her 'Papa' but Captain Asshole is her 'Daddy.' What would be the point to that?"

Rhodey sighed, his shoulders slumping some. "I don't know, Tones. I'm just trying to figure out a logical explanation for all this."

Tony took his glass back over to the table and sat down again. "Look, six months ago, I would be totally right behind you on all this, but I've seen things that I would never have believed back then. I've fought aliens — _aliens_, Jim. And I don't mean the kind that cross the border from Mexico. I flew through a portal suspended two hundred feet above my roof—" He swallowed the nerves and the bile that plagued him at that thought. Later. He could do his freak-out later. "I fought side- by-side with a god of Norse mythology. Is an alternate universe really all that far-fetched in comparison?"

Rhodey turned to look over where DUM-E was rolling around chasing after a squealing Olivia, and Bruce was staring at them nervously, biting his lip and telling them to be careful. He shook his head a little and turned back to Tony, but before he could say anything, Tony beat him to the punch.

"She _literally _appeared out of nowhere. The screen's blank one minute and then the next, portal and there she is. She doesn't think she's in the wrong place. She knows all of us. She walks around this place like she owns it. Judging by the size of her ego, she probably thinks she does."

Rhodey sighed out a breath. "Well, whatever, man. Just don't tell Pepper about this, all right? It's not something she needs to— What? What's that face? What's that look for?"

Tony threw back the rest of his chlorophyll and smacked the glass down onto the table. "She… kind of already knows."

Rhodey closed his eyes and dropped his head, sighing again. "Look, I get after the whole you almost dying from palladium poisoning thing that you want to try out this 'honesty' thing with Pepper, but this was probably one case where maybe you should have kept your mouth shut."

He sat upright in indignation. "_I _didn't tell her anything." He motioned over to the kid. "That little blabbermouth called her 'Aunt Pepper.'" He hunched back down, shoulders slumped, defeated even after his self-assured outburst. "Look, whatever, it is what it is. Pep and I were never going to work out—"

"Don't say that."

"We weren't. We were kidding ourselves. We're better off as friends, and who in their right mind would want to get saddled with me the rest of their life, anyway?"

"Why do you think you're a burden to everyone?"

"I don't—"

"You do. I know the cocky bullshit is just for show. You are probably the most insecure person I know, and man, if I had the chance to go back and belt Howard one, don't think I wouldn't take it."

Tony snorted out a laugh. "Don't say that around the Cap. He and Howard were like this." He crossed his fingers tight to show Rhodey, and Rhodey made a face of disappointment.

"Well, maybe he's not as good a judge of character as I thought he was."

Tony just shrugged. "Maybe Howard was different back then? Maybe he was actually nice? Maybe Cap's more of an asshole than history's made him out to be? Who knows."

"Evidently either some alternate or some future self of yours." He nodded at Olivia, who had — was she standing on DUM-E's chassis?

Tony stood up to get a better look as Rhodey added, "At least, according to her. Should she be doing that?"

"No, she shouldn't— Brat—! Kid—! Get off of him!"

Her face folded into affront as she hung on to DUM-E, leaning off him and using him to counterweight the balance. "But Unca Bruce is watchin' me!"

"So?"

"You said s'long as someone's watchin' me I could do it!"

"Way to be a responsible parent there, Tones," Rhodey muttered, and Tony shot him a glare before he turned his attention back to the kid.

"I don't recall saying that."

Olivia huffed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, you do."

He looked between Bruce and Rhodey. "Is she back-talking me? Am I getting back-talk from a four-year-old?"

But Olivia just hopped off DUM-E and padded over to Tony. "Papa, I'm hungry. Can we eat?"

"Didn't Bruce just feed you?"

She exhaled dramatically, throwing her arms out for emphasis. "That was _days _ago!"

"You don't know how to tell time, do you?"

"Papa!" she whined and hugged her arms around her belly. "I'm hungry! C'we have pizza?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but it just came out as a resigned sigh and he shook his head.

"That was a good six or seven hours ago, Tony," Bruce said because he was a sniveling do- gooder that liked to see him suffer. "I wouldn't turn down a slice."

He felt a tug on his hand, and he looked down to where Olivia stood staring up at him, eyes sad and bottom lip pushed out. "Pwease, Papa? I haven't eaten all day!"

He stared at her a moment then said, "You exaggerate a lot for someone with so little life experience."

"Being your daughter must count for something," Rhodey said, and Tony shot him a sour look before he turned back to the brat and said, "Fine. Whatever. If it'll make you happy."

Olivia squealed in joy and clapped her hands together, and Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder and said, "You know there's no coming back from this, right?"

But Tony just met his eyes and said, "Look, we'll get pizza, grab a few beers, and then Bruce and I will get back to work trying to figure out how to get her the fuck back where she belongs."

The hell he was going to let this little brat wrap herself around his finger.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Evidently the general layout of the penthouse was pretty damned close to what Olivia was used to because she navigated that floor like she'd been living there her whole life, and so far as she probably knew, she had.

She padded around the living area and moved through the kitchen with ease. As Rhodey set the pies down on the island that doubled as an eating area, she went over the fridge and began to look over the contents before she said, "Papa, where's my juice?"

Tony stifled a groan and rolled his eyes as he took a plate offered to him by Bruce. "What juice?"

"The one that's on the door! In the bottles! You put it there for me."

"Papa Tony sounds like he's a much nicer person than our Tony," Rhodey mused and grabbed the first slice of pepper and onion from the pie.

Tony went to tell him to 'fuck off,' but he remembered at the last second that there were impressionable young ears listening, and he bit his tongue then turned his attention back to the kid.

"We're out. How 'bout you have some soda?" he said because trying to explain that he wasn't her Papa and this wasn't her house would be like slamming his head against a wall.

Or like talking to Cap. Well, wasn't that a coincidence?

But Olivia gasped at this and said, "_Really?_" like Tony had just offered her the world.

"What? It's Coke. It's not a bottle of Glenlivet."

"Yeah, but Daddy says it's only for special 'casions."

Tony turned to Bruce and Rhodey, who were both busy stuffing their faces with pizza. "I must have been drunk off my ass when I agreed to marry that tool."

"Thought you didn't?" Rhodey said around a mouthful of pizza. "Thought she's from an alternate universe?"

"Fine! Alternate universe me must have been drunk off his ass."

Bruce nodded and twirled a string of melted cheese around his finger as Olivia clambered up onto one of the chairs and held a plate out to Tony.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" he muttered just as Bruce said, "Say, Olivia? Your Daddy and your Papa— Do they kiss each other?"

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "_All the time_," she said in an overdramatic tone then turned her attention to Tony. "Pizza, pwease, Papa," she said and continued to hold an empty plate out to him. He grumbled under his breath but popped open one of the boxes of plain and yanked out the smallest slice.

"Here," he muttered and slapped it on her plate. "Don't say I never gave you anything."

She settled back into her chair and began the process of picking up what was still an admittedly large slice for such small and fumbling hands. Still, she must have eaten pizza in the past, as she knew enough to fold it in half — though she went about it in a stupid and strange way, using her palms to press the two sides of the pizza together — in order to eat it, and she took her first bite and began to chew with her mouth open.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Chew with your mouth closed. You're not a goddamned cow."

Tony expected the waterworks from his rather snappish tone, but instead all he got was a sour look and acquiescence to his demands.

"Hey, Olivia," Bruce said and went for his next slice.

"Yeah?" she asked with a mouthful of food, and Tony glared at Bruce and said, "I _just _got her to eat like a civilized human being."

But Bruce ignored him and said, "Your Daddy and your Papa— Do they tell each other they love each other?"

Arms resting on the table and holding the slice of pizza over her plate, she nodded a little shyly and said, "Yeah," in the most bashful way that Tony didn't think she was capable of.

Bruce grinned like he'd hit the jackpot. "Yeah? You like it when they tell each other that?"

She didn't say anything, but she nodded all the same.

"And do they say it a lot?"

She nodded once more, but Tony rolled his eyes and said, "What's the point of this, Sprout?"

"_Sprout_?" Bruce murmured in confusion, and even Rhodey seemed perplexed by the reference, stopping mid-bite to raise an eyebrow at Tony, and Tony gawked at them like they were both idiots and said, "Sprout. Jolly Green Giant's little helper? You're like Sprout to the Hulk's Jolly Green Giant."

Bruce and Rhodey both exchanged looks before Rhodey turned to him and said, "Stretching with that one, Tones."

He sat back in his chair, plate untouched. "They can't all be winners. And you never answered me, Spruce Bruce. What's the point of your annoying little exercise?"

Bruce shrugged and took another bite of pizza. Tony figured he was just stalling for time, so he grabbed his own slice and shoved half of it in his mouth, grease running down his chin and his fingers. He saw Rhodey making a face at him out of the corner of his eye, and he raised his eyebrow at him as though to ask, _What?_

"Nothing. Just wondering if Cap finds that endearing or disgusting."

Tony rolled his eyes and swallowed the bite. "Look, can we drop the whole me-and-Cap talk?" He grabbed a shitty paper napkin and wiped the grease from his fingers and chin. "Maybe alternate universe me was that desperate for a ring, but I like to think I have more taste than that."

Rhodey just shrugged as Tony tossed the napkin onto the table. "_Really _think you could do a lot worse than Captain America. And besides, you're not getting any younger, Tony. Clock's ticking, man."

"OK, as adults, I think we're all perfectly aware that men can father children well into their seventies or later."

"Would you want to be seventy and chasing after her?" Bruce asked and nodded his head at Olivia, who was busy pulling the cheese off her slice and eating it with her fingers.

He scowled but said, "The fact remains that I do not possess the biological imperative to procreate, and certainly not while partnered with an anachronistic relic that should have been left back in an ice floe in the twentieth century."

"Future you doesn't seem to have that same opinion."

"Future me is a moron, and it's not even future me. It's some sort of alternate universe me that must have been desperate. I'd feel sorry for the idiot, but clearly he knew what he was getting himself into."

"I don't know, Tones," Rhodey said. "Kinda getting the feeling this other you is sort of happy with how things turned out."

He went to protest this, but Olivia chose at that moment to pipe up, "Papa, c'n I have another piece?"

Tony looked to where a half-eaten slice sat on her plate, all the cheese pulled off leaving only dough and a little bit of sauce. He motioned to her plate and said "You still have half-a-slice there."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, but all the cheese is gone."

"And whose fault is that?"

She just ignored him and said, "C'n I have another slice?"

He just slapped open the box and pulled out another slice. "Here," he said and dropped it on her plate. "Happy?"

She preened a little before she took exactly two bites then set it down and began to pull the cheese off again.

"That is the second perfectly good slice of extra cheese that you've wasted. Who's going to eat that?"

"Daddy does," she replied like it was obvious.

"What I'm getting here is that you two let her get away with pretty much everything," Rhodey said.

"No wonder she stomps around here like she thinks she owns the place," Bruce added.

"Hey, I'd like to see either of you do any better!" He directed his attention to the kid. "Hey, brat. Do either Uncle Bruce or Uncle Rhodey have spawn of their own?"

"Huh?" she asked through a mouthful of cheese and sauce.

"Kids. Do they have kids?"

"Oh!" She pulled more cheese off the slice. "Nah. Mr. Ant-Man has a daughter named Cassie. She's older 'n me."

She stuck the glob of cheese in her mouth and began to chew, and Tony added the names to the ever-growing list of people he might have to deal with in the future. He was still pretty sure she was from another dimension.

And 'Ant-Man' was a stupid-as-fuck name.

"Wait, who lives here?"

She pouted a little. "I thought you said I could have soda?"

Tony rolled his eyes and groaned, but Bruce jumped up from his chair and said, "I'll handle this." Tony turned back to the kid.

"All right. Uncle Bruce is getting your soda. Now spill."

"You mean with us?"

"Sure. We'll start there."

"Just you 'n me 'n Daddy 'n Maddie. We all live in th' big apartment. And then it d'pends. Anna Tasha and Unca Bucky stay sometimes, and Wanda 'n Vision are here sometimes, 'n Unca Bruce is here a lot, 'n Unca Hawky stays here sometimes, 'n Unca Sam is here a lot, 'n Unca Rhodey stays sometimes, 'n Unca Thor stays a lot." She shrugged. "Lotsa 'vengers stay here."

"What'd we have a membership drive?" he muttered then waved off the kid's confused look.

"Hope I joined at the free DVD set level and not the tote bag level," Rhodey said.

Tony made a face but didn't actually say anything to counter him, and he turned his attention back to the brat, who added, "But they're up the state in the other 'vengers building."

The three men exchanged looks before Tony turned to her and said, "There's another building?"

"Yeah!" she said like he should have known that. "Up the state. That's where the 'vengers stay. We don't stay there when we go t' visit. We have a house with a big yard and my swing set's there. Daddy says 'm not allowed t' have a swing set in the Tower. That's for outside. We went there for Christmas, but it didn't snow until after Christmas but Maddie 'n' I got to play outside in the snow. 'nd I heard you and Daddy talking. You said we're gonna be staying there _all the time _soon 'cuz you said it's closer to where the other 'vengers are an' it's safer for me 'n' Maddie."

Tony tilted his head in thought. There _was _an old Stark Industries facility upstate… He shook his head to clear his mind of that and instead changed the subject a little. "So, who are the Avengers now?"

She just gave him a look like that was something he should obviously know. "Why y' askin' me?"

"You hit your head earlier. You might have a concussion. Want to make sure you're OK."

She rubbed her head. "It doesn't hurt."

"_Humor me_, Olivia."

It was the first time he'd said her name, and judging by the surprised looks from Bruce and Rhodey, this knowledge didn't go over their heads, either. He ignored them and kept attention on the kid, who huffed and started naming names as she poked at the remnants of her slices of pizza.

"Daddy 'n' Anna Tasha 'n' Unca Sam 'n' Wanda 'n' Vision are there _all _the time. 'n' sometimes Unca Rhodey joins 'em, too. 'n' Unca Bucky's there a lot. He didn't go this time 'cuz he's gone somewhere else with Unca Hawky 'n' Mr. Ant-Man 'n' Mrs. Wasp."

Tony frowned. "Wait, I'm not an Avenger?"

She shook her head. "Nah, 'nly sometimes."

"_Sometimes?_"

"You stay home with me 'n' Maddie, but if the 'vengers need Iron Man, then you go down in your lab and you do it 'motely, 'n' Maddie 'n' me hafta be real quiet 'n' not cause trouble when you do that 'cuz y' hafta concentrate."

"Aw, isn't that sweet?" Rhodey asked and slapped his shoulder. "You're a stay-at-home dad, Tones."

"Yeah, clearly this is an alternate universe," he said pointedly and turned back to the kid. "I fly the suit remotely?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Friday helps."

"_Who the hell is Friday?_"

She gasped. "Language, Papa!" she said, but there was a teasing edge to it, and it was clearly something that was bandied about a great deal in the Stark-Rogers household.

Jesus fuck, did he _really _just call it that?

He never did get his answer about the suit. Olivia got her soda after that, and for as wound up and talkative as she was, she did seem to tire easily, and though he had projects to work on, and he was pretty sure he and Rhodey had plans to hit up the bar that night and catch up on the craziness of their lives the past couple months, he ended up on the couch with a four-year-old snuggled up next to him as they watched some horrible kids' show on one of those stations he didn't even know existed because they only played stuff for kids. She didn't seem impressed with his insistence that the Avengers show that she seemed to be such a big fan of was not available for her to watch on Netflix, her jaw clenched, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, and brow drawn together, forming a sharp crease in the middle as she refuted Tony's insistence that it wasn't there for them to select.

God, it was _such _a familiar look, but damned if he could figure out who it reminded him of. "But I wanna watch the 'vengers!"

Tony sighed and motioned at the TV as Bruce and Rhodey groaned and slumped into their chosen pieces of furniture. "It doesn't exist yet!" he finally cried out.

"Yes, it does! I wanna watch the 'vengers! I wanna watch th' episode where you 'n' Daddy pretend t' be the bad guys."

He heard Rhodey snort out a laugh, but Tony just rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and said, "Olivia, that's not really _us_."

"I know," she conceded. "Didja ever hafta be th' bad guys, Papa?"

Tony made a face unease then turned to Bruce and Rhodey. "What do kids watch?"

They both shrugged and made utterances that they didn't know, and JARVIS intoned, "_Sir, if I may be of help,_" and some damned cartoon with some little explorer girl came on, which...did not impress Olivia.

"That's _old_," she muttered then turned to Tony. "C'n we watch _Frozen_?"

"What's _Frozen_?"

She rolled her eyes. "Papa, you know _Frozen! _We just watched it yesterday!"

"I don't," Bruce said because he was a glutton for punishment, and Olivia turned her attention to him. "Why don't you tell me what it is?"

She suddenly went animated as she described in detail something about sisters and snow and magic, and she ended it by singing something that had to have been called 'Let It Go.'

Tony turned to Bruce and Rhodey. "Sound familiar to either one of you?"

They both shook their heads, and Tony sighed and said, "How 'bout a Disney movie? What's a popular one? Snow White? Cinderella? Little Mermaid? J, we got any of those—" He rolled his eyes at the sad little look on her face. "What? What's wrong with Disney movies?"

"Daddy watches those with me," she murmured, looking like she was two seconds away from crying.

"Yeah? Well, Daddy's not here," he said, surprising himself by how easily the term rolled off his tongue.

Not that it meant anything. Whatever. Alternate universe. That he was totally going to work on getting her back to when she went to sleep. Which hopefully would be halfway through whatever movie they could finally settle on.

She folded her arms and pouted a little, and Tony sighed and said, "You can't watch one with me?"

She went contemplative at that. "C'we watch _The Little Mermaid_?"

"Sure."

"OK!"

He settled back into the couch with her, and she curled up tight next to him as JARVIS loaded up the movie for them.

She fell asleep before Ursula had even taken Ariel's voice.

Bruce had already snuck out, and Tony carefully disentangled himself from the slumbering little sprog and tucked a pillow under her head as he got up, and he found a blanket somewhere and draped it over her, telling JARVIS quietly to keep the movie playing at a low tone because it was probably helping her to sleep.

He motioned for Rhodey to follow him over to the elevator, and they went down to the workshop, Tony taking a seat at his workstation while Rhodey sat down in the free chair on the other side of it.

"Man," he said and rubbed at his eyes, "those movies are tough to take when you're not that age."

Tony shrugged and logged in his information. "Wasn't that bad."

Rhodey just looked at him pointedly. "You sound like Papa Tony there."

He shrugged again but didn't say anything to that, instead telling Rhodey, "Sorry. About tonight, I mean. Didn't we have plans to—?"

"Don't worry about it," Rhodey said in reply. "Not every day your daughter from the future shows up in your workshop."

Tony pulled up a schematic for a new suit, completely forgetting he was supposed to be working on a way to get the kid home. "She's not from the future. She's from an alternate universe."

"I don't think you believe that."

Tony glanced at him then went back to his work. "I think you're just telling yourself that."

He swiped at some screens. "And why would I do that, buttercup?"

"Because you're afraid to let yourself hope for even one second that it might be true. Because if you let yourself think it's true and then it turns out it's not, you're afraid it'll hurt that much. You'd rather not feel anything than put yourself in a position to get hurt."

"That's not true," he said and swiped at another screen. "That's not true. Case in point: Pepper."

Rhodey made a face and said, "Look, Tones, I love Pepper. You know I love Pepper. I think she's fantastic, and she is so good at getting your ass into gear that she deserves a damned award for it. I just don't think she's the girl for you."

Tony slammed his hand down on the table, only now remembering that he'd impaled it earlier thanks to the throbbing pain it sent up his arm. Fuck, he hoped it wouldn't start bleeding again.

"_Really? _No, I mean it, Jim. Fucking _really?_"

"Look, I'm not saying she's anything other than the awesomeness that she is. I'm just saying for someone that you would spend the rest of your life with—"

"Pepper is the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and she still _would _be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me if it wasn't for that little blabbermouth upstairs—"

"Yeah, Tones, you hear the way that little blabbermouth talks about you? You and Cap—"

"Jesus, _really? _Cap? You think me and Cap—"

"Look, man, I'm just calling it as I see it. Pepper's great. She's a great girl period. I just don't think she's the one you spend the rest of your life with. I think you two kind of fell into a relationship because you thought you were supposed to. I just think you're better off as friends."

He snorted a laugh. "What? You believe that little tattletale about me and Cap? Is that what this is about? You think this is the culmination of some teenaged wet dream for me?"

"OK, first of all, _way _more than I ever wanted to know."

"You already did know. Don't pretend like I never got drunk and overshared my deepest, darkest teenage fantasies with you."

"_Second_," Rhodey said over him, "ever since you met the guy, he's all you've been able to talk about."

"Yeah, how much of a sanctimonious pain in the ass he is. Which is a shame, because he's really got a great ass."

Rhodey motioned to him. "See? You're checking him out!"

"Uh, have you _looked _at him? Pinnacle of human perfection. Of course I've checked him out. Come on, tulip. Just us guys here. Admit it. You've checked him out, too."

Rhodey just rolled his eyes. "Tony—"

"No. I don't know where you and Bruce get this idea that just because I mention about how much of an egotistical ass the guy is—"

"Oh, so Bruce has noticed your obsession, too?"

"—that means I'm harboring some deep-down, desperate crush on him. Uh, hate to burst your bubble, goeduck, but I'm not. The guy's an uptight ass with a really nice, tight ass you could bounce a fucking quarter off of."

Rhodey had his head in his hands, and he shook his head some before he pulled his hands away a little and said, "Did you just call me the name of the most phallic-looking mollusk in the world _while _perving on the Cap's ass?"

"What? I don't know. I thought it was a cute name."

"Whatever," Rhodey said with a sigh. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you'd have something like that on the brain when we're talking about Cap."

"Wait, whoa. Are you implying that I'm thinking about Cap's trouser snake?" "I swear to god you're proving my point and you don't even realize it."

"What do you think it is? I'm going to go with at least nine inches. Sadly, Howard's notes were not as detailed as you might think. And girth. I hear a lot of people talking about girth. I mean, what the fuck good is nine inches if it's as thick as a standard No. 2 pencil? I mean, I'm just gonna assume it's thick, too. Thick and long. I mean, you've seen the rest of his limbs, right? Guy's a fucking tree — one of those big oaks or maples, not some spindly sapling. And a lot of people would probably assume given the time he comes from that he's uncut, but I'm gonna go against that. I'm gonna say he's cut. Why? His mother was a nurse. Plus, he was in the army during the war, and I think they did it to you regardless if you joined the service because it was supposed to cut down on infections and shit like that. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't believe I just listened to you ramble about what Captain America's dick looks like."

Tony just blinked. "_Or_, he was juiced up with steroids, which shrinks your junk, so, maybe it's like a little three-inch nub," he mused and wiggled his index finger as a demonstration.

"Easier to get your mouth around," Rhodey mused, and at Tony's bemused look, he added, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. You've thought about everything else."

Tony considered this a moment then shrugged a little, a small smile on his face as though to assure Rhodey he wasn't wrong about his assumptions, and Rhodey just sighed and shook his head and said, "I can't believe we're talking about this."

"Hey, it's either this or me thinking about the fact that Pepper just walked out of my life. I'd really rather not think about that one."

Rhodey sighed again and said, "Tones, you know I love you both, but—"

"_Sir_," JARVIS cut in, "_I am sorry to interrupt your bonding time with the Colonel, but Miss Olivia is awake and is extremely agitated. I believe she has suffered what is known as a nightmare. She wishes to see you immediately_."

Rhodey shot him a look, and Tony just shrugged in defeat and said, "Send her down, J."

Not a minute later, Olivia came barreling into the workshop, face tearstained, and she ran over to him and latched on, and Tony, in a move that he would never fully understand how he even knew what to do, scooped her up into his arms and held her tight against his chest.

"What's the matter? What happened?"

"The man!" she cried into his shoulder.

"What man?"

"The bad one. The one that was gonna hurt you. He came back and—"

Tony shushed her and rubbed her back as she snuffled into his shoulder. "It's OK. Hey, it's OK. He's not here. There's no bad man here. It's just me and Uncle Rhodey. Even Uncle Bruce's turned in for the night."

"But he came back and—"

"He's not here, kiddo. Believe me. Just you and me and Uncle Rhodey. He's not going to get you. I'm not going to let him get you."

He continued to rub her back and shush her, and he didn't miss Rhodey's pointed look at him.

Look, he was not— The kid was scared. She was crying. Yeah, so some natural instinct had come over him, and he'd scooped her up like he was a pro. It didn't mean anything. He just… Was he supposed to let her think some horrible man was going to hurt them?

It didn't mean anything. Honest.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

By the time Tony got Olivia back up to the penthouse, she'd fallen asleep again, and with her head on his shoulder, he carried her into the living area and looked around with a sigh. He wasn't sure he could handle letting her sleep up in his bed. That was a little too… The corpse of his relationship with Pepper was still kind of fresh, and that almost felt like dancing on its grave. But he suddenly wasn't comfortable with letting her out of his sight, so he set her down on the couch again, her head resting upon the pillow he had tucked beneath her earlier, and draped the blanket over her once more.

"Guess I'm out of a bed for the night," Rhodey said as he stood beside him, and Tony nodded toward the stairs and said, "Take mine."

"Nah, I can't—"

He shook his head. "I'm not sleeping up there. Pepper sure as fuck isn't. Someone might as well use it."

"Yeah? And where are you sleeping then?"

He shrugged. "I'll find something."

"You sure, man?"

He sank down onto a chair and tipped his head back. "Yeah," he said with a slight groan then shushed his friend. "Don't need her waking up again."

Rhodey exhaled a heavy sigh and said, "Whatever, man. Look, maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding—"

"You just told me thirty minutes ago that you didn't think Pepper and I were right for each other."

But Rhodey put his hands up and said, "I'm just saying. It's probably not as bad as it seems."

He went over to where he'd dropped his overnight bag at the bottom of the staircase.

"Look, I'll take the bed tonight," he said and made his way back over to Tony, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, for all you know, she'll vanish and disappear during the night and go back to wherever she comes from. We'll talk, OK? Even if she's still here and still bouncing around like a lunatic, we'll talk."

He just nodded and murmured his thanks, and Rhodey strode over to the steps and went upstairs to the bedroom.

Tony heaved out a breath and looked up at the ceiling — at the sheetrock and spackle that hadn't yet been covered and the very dim recessed lighting that he was pretty sure had been picked out by Pepper.

How did his life go so fucking pear-shaped in the span of under twenty-four hours?

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbed hard. How was this even…? How did this even happen to…?

Were there any support groups for people that had just had a relationship ruined by the appearance of a child from the future that was decidedly _not _the child of that other person in the relationship?

_No_, not future. Not _just _future. Alternate universe. Had to be an alternate universe.

He dropped his hands away from his face and got up from the chair. He made to go to the bar and pour himself a drink, but he thought better of it. Not because he didn't want it — he did — but because he couldn't. Not while he had her. Not while she was here. He wasn't going to be like his father. No matter whose kid she really was, he wasn't going to be like his father.

Instead, he went over to the newly-reinstalled window that looked out over the city. He braced an arm against the glass and leaned against it, gazing over the artificially-lit horizon of buildings and water. The sun had long-since set, and the city glittered with streetlamps and automobile lights and signage and office buildings that still saw activity even at this time of night. It was peaceful.

Maybe not as quiet and peaceful as Malibu — he would think about getting back out there soon, but he knew that was where Pepper was headed, and…yeah…

But it was peaceful, staring at the city from this high up. Not that it helped him with his quandary any. There was still a mysterious little four-year-old sleeping on his couch that called him 'Papa' and, evidently, the Cap 'Daddy.' If he couldn't figure out a way to get her back to where she belonged before the Cap came back, oh, yeah, that would go over like gangbusters. He didn't know what the Cap would balk at more: being a father—

Or evidently being married to Tony.

Jesus fuck, in some alternate universe he was married to Captain fucking America. In some alternate universe, Steve Rogers was his husband. In some alternate universe, he was…_happy_.

Bruce had explained to him the way — laughing the entire time — the kid had shown him how this other him and this other Steve Rogers sucked face, and she'd gotten all coy and bashful at dinner when Bruce had asked her if the other him and the other Cap had told each other they loved each other. She, at the least, was very much under the impression that her daddy and her papa loved each other or were in love with each other.

Maybe they were.

Maybe things had worked out differently in this other universe. Clearly, Cap was at the least bi if not flat-out gay in this other universe. Tony would bet almost his whole fortune on Cap being straight-as-an-arrow in this universe.

Almost his whole fortune because there was a little part of him that thought Cap might not be _entirely _straight here but was more than content to live that way because he was from the fucking, repressed '40s, and no fucking way in hell would he ever allow himself to even _think _of another man in that way.

Oh, but Tony had. Going back to his teenaged fantasies of that sexy, built Captain America that decorated his wall. The one that seemed to have muscles in all the right places, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The one that ate Nazis for breakfast. How could he not? He'd figured out early on — not that he would ever have the guts to tell Howard — that a man did it for him just as well as a woman did, and he wasn't blind. Captain America was a hot piece of ass.

And then, it turned it out, he was just an ass.

OK, so Tony had had some…issues…with Captain America over the years — namely, that Howard was more concerned with finding his dead friend than he was parenting his own kid. And whenever Tony fucked up, it was always— _You know who would never do something like that? Steve. Steve was brilliant at planning. He was master tactician. He was—_

OK, not a road he wanted to travel down.

But Tony had, in the years after his stupid and juvenile crush on the good Captain, developed a bit of an animosity toward him. Fuck, Howard had only known the guy a couple years, and for all he knew, Howard was making up most of that shit because Howard… Who the hell knew what he was thinking? But Tony had grown to dislike the Captain. He hadn't bothered to continue his father's attempts to find the old bag of bones because what was the fucking point? Ooh, yay, he'd bring a dead war hero home for a proper burial. Big deal. It was a pointless and wasted endeavor that cost more money than it would ever be worth in the long run. Obie — fucking Obie — had just said Howard would be disappointed in him, but he didn't try to stop him at any rate.

Then he got wind that they'd found the fish food formerly known as Captain America, and not only had they found him, they'd found him _alive_.

For only a brief second did Tony feel any remorse that he'd given up the search for Captain America. Only a second because how the hell was he supposed to know he was still alive? The man had crashed a plane into an unknown location in 1945. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would have figured the man had probably died on impact.

But not only was the old codger alive, but SHIELD wanted him to join their super-secret boy band along with Tony and a bunch of other misfits. OK, not Tony because Romanoff had decided he wasn't good enough. _Iron Man _was good enough, but Tony Stark wasn't, which didn't make sense, but whatever.

He'd avoided meeting the Capsicle at any point before he absolutely had to because, well, because he was still a little embarrassed about leaving him out in the cold and he still fucking hated the man's guts for ever having existed. The embarrassment completely dissipated once he finally met the sanctimonious prick, who seemed to hate Tony on first glance just as much as Tony hated him. Why he hated Tony immediately was beyond him, though he figured 99.99% had to do with the fact that Tony wasn't Howard.

When push came to shove, they'd been able to fight side-by-side, and the good Captain had even looked relieved and had smiled a little when Tony hadn't died and had started rambling on about shawarma. They'd come to a sort of truce by the end of it, and Tony had offered to put him up at the tower whenever he came back to town.

It seemed like a good idea, the Avengers — which is what they decided to keep calling themselves — having a home base of operations, and even Pepper had smiled and gone along with it because… Actually, looking back, Tony didn't know why unless she was putting on a brave face. Captain Anachronism had come back after a while, had taken up space on one of the guest floors while Tony finished renovating the tower, and they had…come to an understanding of sorts. They didn't _like _each other necessarily, but they didn't _dislike _each other.

Or that's what Tony told himself.

Because the Captain was just as righteous and mighty and cunning and brilliant as he'd been made out to be all those years ago. And, as it turned out, the pictures and the newsreels didn't do the guy justice at all. He was fucking _gorgeous _in person with crystalline blue eyes that seemed to change color depending on the light and long eyelashes and a shoulder-to-waist ratio to die for. He was polite and earnest and had a wickedly dry sense of humor that seemed to go over everyone's heads.

Everyone's except Tony's, of course.

It wasn't his childhood crush coming back to him. It was something more — something he felt in his bones, something that electrified his nerves. It was almost like being with the Cap and being around the Cap gave him new life, renewed his energy, made him see things in a different light. Yes, he had thought about the Cap going down on him, but he'd also given a great deal of thought to doing the same for the Cap, and just the idea — just the very idea — that there existed a universe in this crazy plane of existence that something like that could even have happened…

He only wished he'd never found out.

Because to believe it would never happen was one thing. He could manage that. He could deal with that. But to know that in another time and place — in another world — it _did _happen, and it didn't crash and burn horrifically like all this other relationships had…that was just a little too much to bear. Because evidently that Tony Stark had been a much better person than he had been, and that Tony Stark had deserved happiness. Deserved a husband that loved him. Deserved a daughter that worshiped the very ground he walked on—

Well, when she wasn't busy walking all over him, that was.

Married. Definitely the married-to-Tony thing. The old man would probably blow a gasket when he found that out.

He pushed himself away from the glass and strode back over to the chair, and he collapsed back onto it and said, "Cut the lights, J."

Without a word, the lights went down, the gleam from the city casting dark shadows over the broad, open space of the living area, and after Tony's eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he sat there and watched some other Tony Stark's daughter slumber contentedly and wondered if that Tony Stark knew how lucky a son-of-a-bitch he really was.

~*~

"Papa? Papa, you 'wake?"

Tony scrunched his mouth as sleep left him and sensation — achy, stiff sensation — came back to him. He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut as the makings of daylight shined through his closed lids, feeling a small presence at his left side and hot breath by his ear.

"Papa?" the voice whispered again, and Tony groaned and stretched a little, grimacing as a pain throbbed in his back.

Jesus, he was just shy of forty-two. He wasn't _that _old that he couldn't sleep a night in a chair, was he?

He groaned once again and opened his eyes, and he glanced to the side to see a small face and big, dark eyes staring back at him.

"Morning, Papa," Olivia whispered.

"Why are you whispering?"

"'Cuz you were sleepin'."

"Then why did you—?" He stopped short and shook his head. "Never mind. What time is it?" he muttered and looked at his watch.

Seven-thirty.

He squinted at the watch face and tried to make out if he was reading it the right way. "Why are you awake this early?"

"Because! Cartoons, Papa!" She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him out of the chair. "Quick! Cartoons are starting! I need my Wucky Charms."

"Why do you suddenly have a problem with 'L's—? Hey! Wait, no, Papa's too old for you to do that!" he said and tried to stop her from pulling him out of the chair. "Give Papa a second."

She rolled her eyes and huffed a little. "Daddy c'n sleep on a rock."

"Yeah? It's 'cause he was engineered to be that way," he muttered and sat up on the edge of the cushion. He rubbed his neck and made a face at the ache that remained, and he tried to think if there was any sort of aspirin or other over-the-counter analgesic on hand.

Bruce probably had something, come to think of it. And if not that, he probably had something he could take a toke on.

"Wha's that mean?"

Tony blinked and stared back at her earnest curiosity. Did she mean the comment about Steve or had he muttered the 'toke' comment aloud?

"Nothing. I'll explain when you're older," he said, erring on the side of caution.

As he stood up, his back popping rather painfully, he only half-realized that he'd oh-so-breezily referred to himself as 'Papa' and had begun treating this situation as completely normal — like he really _was _her 'Papa' and not just some piss-poor alternate universe substitute.

"Look, kiddo," he said and stretched his muscles some, "I don't think we have any Lucky Charms in the house. You might have to settle for some of Uncle Bruce's muesli."

She frowned a little. "Is that the stuff they put in dried walls?"

Tony just blinked at her. "What?"

"You said Unca Bruce's stuff tastes like stuff in dried walls!"

He thought about this a moment. Was she trying to say that Bruce's muesli tasted like the shit they put in drywall? Because she wasn't wrong, in that case.

"That sounds like the cleaned-up version of something I'd say. Yeah."

She made a face and said an actual, "Blech!" as she stuck her tongue out. "No. I want my Wucky Charms."

"Sorry, kid," he said and began to walk into the kitchen, "we don't have any."

She rushed to catch up with him, and she reached up and took hold of his hand. He stopped in his tracks a moment as he realized the disturbing naturalness of what had just happened, but Olivia was too busy looking at his hand and frowning.

"Papa, where's your ring?"

"My what?"

She pointed to his left ring finger. "Your ring. You and Daddy gots matching rings! You always wear that!"

Jesus, they were married _and _wore rings?

"Uh…" He scratched at his beard with his right hand. "I probably left it down in the workshop."

"How come?"

He tugged on her arm just a little to get her to follow him into the kitchen. "Uh…well, I was working on stuff, and I, uh…"

"Did you listen to Daddy?"

He let go of her hand as she ran over to the island and scrambled up onto one of the chairs.

"Daddy always says, _Tony, you're gonna get that ring caught on somethin' someday_," she explained as she settled onto one of the chairs.

"Yeah?" he said and pulled open a couple cabinets to look for…something to feed a child. "And what do I usually tell him?"

She huffed a bit. "Then you say, _Wrleax, babe, I know what I'm doing. 'm not gonna get it caught_. Except for the time that you did, and Unca Bucky had to help you get it uncaught, and you told Unca Bucky not to say anything to Daddy, and Unca Bucky said, _'m not gettin' involved in your cwazy shit_. And then you said, _You're wucky I can't tell Steve about this_, 'cuz you wanted to tattle on him about sayin' that word in front of me, but then you'd hafta tell Daddy that you got your ring caught, and then you'd get in trouble 'cuz Daddy says you shouldn't be wearin' it when you work on stuff."

"Uh huh," he said and opened the fridge. So, alternate universe Cap and Tony wore wedding rings, alternate universe him called Cap 'babe,' and alternate universe Cap evidently worried about his safety. Well, that's was nice. Sickeningly sweet, maybe, but nice, he supposed.

And no, he did in any way, shape, or form envy this other Tony's happily domestic life. "How 'bout eggs?" he asked as he looked over the bare necessities stocked therein.

She hummed in thought then said, "Scwambled up with little pieces of bacon?"

"No bacon, kiddo."

She huffed. "Is that 'cuz you gots Jarbus instead of Friday? Friday makes sure we gots food. What happened to Friday? Can we have Friday back?"

Tony pulled the carton out of the fridge along with some butter. "Friday's on vacation."

She seemed amazed by this. "Computers hafta go on vacation, too?"

"Starting to think I could use a vacation here," he muttered and set the eggs and butter on the counter and grabbed a pan from a cabinet. He looked at it askance as he set it on the burner, and he glanced back at her. "You don't mind if they're burned, right?"

She looked like she was genuinely confused. "Like when Daddy makes 'em?"

"Daddy burns them worse than I do?"

She shook her head, her little blonde ponytail all askew, hair both sticking up in the air and falling out of the band. "Daddy's OK. You're a _lot _better 'n he is. He likes to boil stuff. That's wha' they did when he was little back when there were _dinosaurs_. That's how old Daddy is. You're a much better cook than Daddy."

OK, this was _definitely _a kid from an alternate universe. No way in hell were his culinary skills anything that could ever be considered remotely…good.

And he was totally imagining the little pang of hurt that hit him square in the arc reactor as he told himself that. No, not about the culinary skills. About the alternate universe.

"Well, Daddy's from a, uh, different time when that's how they liked to cook their food."

"I know. He's old," she said like this was something she had heard from someone else and had taken as gospel truth, and Tony assumed it was him — or alternate universe him — when she added, "but we love him."

He just smiled at her. He didn't know what else to do. "Yeah," he said, not wanting to rattle her small world too much. If he could hand her back to his other self without having broken her in any way, he'd chalk it up to a win for him. "Yeah, we do."

"Is he really gonna be a _hundred _this year?" she asked, sounding amazed at the very concept.

"Uh…J, what's the Cap's birthdate again?"

"_The Captain was born on the fourth of July nineteen hundred and eighteen_," JARVIS replied.

"I knew that!" Olivia said and pouted a little, seemingly annoyed that Tony had gone to someone else for this information. Or maybe more that he had gone to the vastly inferior 'Jarbus' for it.

But he just looked at her pointedly and said, "And we're in twenty-eighteen, right?"

She nodded.

"Then yeah, I guess he is going to be a hundred."

She gasped out and said, "That's three whole numbers!"

"Uh…sure."

"He was there when they signed the Decoration of Inadapandance."

Tony just blinked at her. "The _what?_" he asked then suddenly was able to translate. "You mean the Declaration of Independence?"

"That's what I said!"

"You didn't say anything close to that, and, uh, who told you that?"

She just looked at him like the sun rose and fell with him. "You did!" Then her brow furrowed, getting that strange but familiar crease to it as she added, "But Daddy said, _Tony, don't tell her that! _How come? Why doesn't Daddy wan' me t' know?"

God, these inside stories and jokes were starting to drain him. He was going to have to have JARVIS start cataloging and indexing them so he could keep them straight until he handed her off to his other self.

"You'll have to ask Daddy," he finally decided on saying because it seemed like the safest bet. He'd have to assure his alternate self he'd tried his best not to fuck his kid up too much, but it's not like she came with a user's manual or anything.

And Jesus fuck was she a handful!

"Figures," she muttered and sat back in her chair. "Papa, 'm thirsty. C'n I have some juice?"

"I don't know if we have—" He finished the rest in a grumble as he went back over to the fridge. He scanned over the contents and found what looked like a bottle of orange juice. He picked it up and showed it to her. "Will this do?"

She narrowed her gaze at it. "Does it have the yucky stuff in it?"

"What's the yucky stuff?"

"You know! The chewy stuff!"

He sighed and closed the door, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes. "I don't know," he said and looked at the container. "Pulp free," he read aloud. "Does that sound right?"

"Does that mean it doesn't have the yucky stuff in it?"

Whatever. He'd wing it.

"Sure, kid. It's yucky-stuff-free."

"OK," she said with a shrug.

"I am not cut out for this shit," he muttered and made to grab a glass out of the cabinet. "Not that one!" she cried. "My Elsa one!"

"It's in the dishwasher," he said and realized that handing glass to a four-year-old was a fine idea for an idiot. He looked for something less breakable and found a 'Stark Industries' emblazoned plastic travel mug.

"Here," he said and handed the cup to her, filled halfway with orange juice. "Try not to get it on yourself."

"Thank you, Papa," she said and took the mug from him, putting both hands around it as she brought it to her mouth and began to drink, the excess dribbling down the sides of her mouth.

"Hey, kid! Smaller sips!" he said and grabbed a towel to mop up the mess with. "Jesus," he muttered and pulled the cup away from her mouth as he wiped her face and neck.

"This one's too big for me," she explained.

"Well, it's the only thing we've got at the moment. Everything else is in the dishwasher."

"Is that 'cuz Daddy was lazy 'n' didn't push th' button again?"

Tony just shot a pointed look at her.

"Daddy needs to clean up after himself," she said definitively, like it was the last word on the matter. "I clean up after myself! I put my toys away!"

"Well," he said and dropped the towel on the table to go back to the stove, "maybe Daddy needs to take some pointers from you."

"We're the clean ones, right Papa?" she said. "Daddy 'n' Maddie are the messy ones. But that's 'cuz Maddie's a baby and she doesn't know any better. Daddy's old enough to know better. That's what you say."

"Yeah huh," he said and dropped a pat of butter into the pan, trying not to laugh at the fact that alternate universe Cap was evidently a slob.

Now, that was probably a sight to see. Maybe, if he ever got to meet his alternate-universe self, he could ask him for pictures. He had to have one on standby, right? Tony would if he was in that situation.

"You want toast?"

"Yes, pwease."

"And again with the 'L's," he murmured and stuck a slice of bread in the toaster. He turned his attention back to the pan and saw the butter was melted, and he took a breath and said, "Please be better than Pepper's. Please be better than Pepper's. Please be better than Pepper's," and cracked an egg into the pan. He seasoned it and began to scramble it up, and he grimaced a little as he tried to judge when it would be done. Was it already done? Was anything still running? Was it firm enough? He didn't want to feed some other Tony's kid undercooked eggs. Fuck, if she got sick, that other Tony would probably repulsor the shit out of him when he found out.

"You like 'em extra-done, right, kiddo?" "Huh?"

_OK, Jesus, get a hold of yourself. This is not the first time you've cooked a fucking egg._

Some of the eggs were just starting to get a little brown, so he pulled the pan off the heat and set it to the side and grabbed a plate out of the cabinet. He set the plate down and scooped the eggs onto it then grabbed the just-cooked bread out of the toaster and spread a little butter on it. OK, not too bad. Eggs weren't too overcooked, right? Wait, were they cooked? Fuck. Yeah, but the toast wasn't burned right? OK, too burned.

He grabbed the plate and set it down in front of Olivia, and she happily grabbed the slice of toast and bit into it then said, with a mouthful of toasted bread, "Papa, I need a fork."

"Oh! Right!"

He made a face as he tried to figure which drawer held the flatware, and he opened three before he found the correct one. He pulled out a small salad fork for her because he thought the dinner forks were just too big for her hand, and when he handed it to her, she just looked at him and said, "Ketchup, pwease."

He made a face. "You're kidding."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Papa, I eat ketchup with my eggs!"

He went in the fridge again and looked around, and he grabbed the small bottle of red stuff and set it down beside her plate.

"Don't tell me," he said as she frowned and held the bottle out to him. "Daddy puts ketchup on his eggs."

"Yeah, he does," she said and continued to hold the bottle out to him.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I can't open it."

He sighed and popped the cap on it, and she looked at her plate expectantly like she expected him to squirt the offending substance onto the eggs he'd just slaved to cook so…

Whatever. It wasn't haute cuisine.

He squirted a few dollops of ketchup on to the eggs, and she went about doing the rest, grabbing her fork and mixing it in so it looked like some sort of horrendous orange concoction that was a massive offense to anyone with taste buds. Or sight.

He glanced at the clock on the microwave and saw it was nearly eight o'clock, and he figured he wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon, so he grabbed a bag of coffee beans from the cabinet, ground up enough for a pot, and then set the coffeemaker to brew, Olivia watching him the entire time.

"You can't be that bored that watching me is that interesting."

"You havin' coffee for breakfast?"

"Always do."

"That's 'cuz Daddy's not home. You don't eat when Daddy's not home."

He watched her stab at her eggs and shove them into her mouth, and he thought about how, for as much of a chatterbox as she was, she'd provided no real inklings that this other him and Cap fought on a regular basis or even argued with each other all that much. Clearly they were in each other's pockets, and yet, it didn't sound like they had even begun to irritate each other. At most, it sounded like they nagged each other, which was just more clear proof that she was from an alternate universe. Not that he and the Cap got into screaming matches with each other, but he had a hard time imagining him and this Cap having such an easy, familial...codependent relationship with one another. Yeah, they were totally codependent and didn't even realize it. Poor bastards.

"Hey— _oh!_" Rhodey said, announcing his presence in the kitchen. "Hey, where'd the food come from?"

Tony turned to him and preened a little. "I made it."

But Rhodey just blinked at him and said, "No, seriously, where'd the food come from? You order out? I would've gotten something."

"I didn't order out. I cooked it myself—" He looked to the four-year-old shoving the last bite of toast into her mouth. "Isn't that right, kiddo?"

She nodded and chewed. "Yeah," she said around a mouthful of bread. "Papa's a good cook."

Rhodey just stared at her then turned back to Tony, who put his hands up in defense and said, "It was a scrambled egg. How can you fuck up a scrambled egg?"

"Language, Papa!"

"Oh, but _that time _you can pronounce your 'L's."

"Hey," Rhodey said, and Tony turned his attention back to him, "have you made any progress in the getting-her-home thing?"

Tony shrugged and poured a cup of coffee for both himself and Rhodey.

"Haven't really had time, jellybean. Been sorta…babysitting alternate universe me's kid and trying not to break her. Seem to be doing OK so far."

Rhodey just looked at him pointedly, like he was waiting for him to come to some kind of realization. Tony just stared right back at him and said, "What?" as he took a sip of coffee.

"OK, but…you know you have to try to get her back, right?"

"Yeah, she can't stay here. None of her stuff's here. Hey, you want some eggs? Clearly, I can scramble eggs. Just don't ask for an omelette."

Rhodey just made a face and said, "Nah, wouldn't want to trouble you. I can cook 'em myself."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said and went around him toward the living room. "Hey, kiddo, what was that you said about cartoons?"

Olivia squealed with delight and hopped off the chair, bounding into the living room ahead of him, and Rhodey reached out and snatched a firm hold of Tony's arm, pulling him back, concern etched over his face.

"Tony, you know—"

"I _know_, sweetums. It's just cartoons."

He left the room, Rhodey worriedly muttering, "_Tony_…" behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Tony was in love.

He couldn't say for certain _when _he'd fallen in love with the little blonde that bore such a resemblance to him.

He just knew that he _had _fallen in love.

It hit him as they lay on the sofa that afternoon, she curled up against him, snuggled into that little crevice between him and the couch, a blanket thrown over them, and from out of nowhere, some strange feeling of love and protection came over him. He'd _known _this was his daughter from the moment JARVIS had read the DNA results back to him, but this was the first moment he'd actually _felt _it. This was his daughter — maybe an alternate universe's him, anyway — but this was his daughter, and he'd rip apart anyone in the universe that would dare touch one hair on her head.

She was a handful. There were no two ways around it. She was a precocious pain in the ass, and it was at that moment that he wondered if that was the kind of kid Cap had been before he brushed the thought aside. Olivia was his biological daughter, not Cap's, and her <strike>massive ego</strike> outgoing personality was probably a learned behavior rather than something hereditary.

But he loved her, loved he like he'd never loved anyone. It was strange how easily this feeling was able to overcome him. Maybe it wasn't really love. Maybe it was just some pathetic and desperate need to _be _loved, and there was no question that this rambunctious ball of fire loved him. And it wasn't necessarily the way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room or when he cut her peanut butter and jelly sandwich up in to quarters. It was in the way she took for granted that _this _was who her Papa was and _this _was what he did for her. It wasn't odd to her. It wasn't the sort of amazed elation he felt whenever Howard had deigned to acknowledge him. This was comfort in knowing she was loved and was wanted, in knowing and accepting that her Papa would always be there for her.

It was in the way she clambered on top of him without question when they were on the couch, her head on his chest as she asked with the innocence that could only come from youth and the security that came from knowing she was loved and cherished, "Papa, did your daddy go 'way a lot?"

It seemed odd, maybe, that she would choose to bring up Howard, and it was something that made him sadly realize yet again that she was from an alternate universe because he would have assumed he'd have drilled it into his kids' heads that Howard Stark was what they called 'off limits.'

"My daddy?" he asked and tried to remember if there'd ever been a time he'd called Howard 'Daddy.'

"Yeah. Daddy says he'd like t' go back and wing his neck."

"_Wing? _Wait, do you mean _wring?_"

"That's what I said!"

_Cap? Cap _would go back and wring Howard's neck? Just more proof this was definitely an alternate universe he was dealing with here.

"Well," he said and swallowed, "my daddy wasn't as…nice as your daddy."

"Yeah. Daddy says he's a poor 'scuse for a daddy and 's'not half th' man you are. What's that mean?"

He frowned and nestled his head some more against the pillow. Strange to think that, in some other time and place, Cap could denigrate his old pal Howard like that. He kind of wished he could meet that Cap and shake his hand...and maybe give him a kiss and a quick goose. Come on! The guy was gorgeous! How could he not? Plus...he had to say, he was starting to like this other Cap. Like _really _like this other Cap.

Jesus, what was he? Twelve?

"It means," he said, trying to choose his words carefully in case things where Olivia came from didn't quite match up with what he knew, "that Daddy thinks I'm a better person than my daddy was." Goddamn, it was weird having to call Cap 'Daddy.'

Oh, god, they didn't have some sort of 'daddy kink' in that other world, did they? Not that there was anything wrong with that. The Cap was technically older than he was, even if he looked older than the Cap, and the Cap was taller than he was and more muscled and...

Fuck, was it him, or was it getting a little warm in here?

Olivia just nestled closer to him, getting comfortable as she snuggled against his torso. "I think you're the best, Papa."

The best.

She thought he was the best.

Some strange and confusing emotion welled up inside of him the moment those words translated in his brain. The best. His daughter didn't just love him, and she didn't just _like _him, she thought he was the _best_. Maybe it was stupid to even potentially let himself get worked up over that, but it was hard not to because it was completely one hundred percent unfiltered sentiment. Olivia might know how to get her way, and Tony didn't doubt for a second she knew how to lie, but this wasn't a lie, and this wasn't her trying to get her way. This was a little girl spending quality time with her papa and telling him that she loved him and adored him in the best way she understood how.

He put his arms around her and hugged her, and he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and said, the words coming to him like they were being fed to him through the ether, "I love you, too, baby girl."

He didn't know where the 'baby girl' had come from, but it felt right, and it he was certain it _was _right when Olivia asked, "Why'm I 'baby girl'? I'm not a baby!"

How come? Oh, well, hold on, he had to jump in his DeLorean and talk to his future, alternate universe self a moment.

"Uh, don't we always call you 'baby girl'?"

She huffed. "_You _do!"

He hesitated a bit then asked, "What, uh, what does Daddy call you?"

He didn't see it, but he _knew _she rolled her eyes at him. "_Doll baby,_" she said like Tony had just asked her the stupidest question in the world.

"Well, that's old-timey," he muttered then said to her, "Well, why shouldn't I call you 'baby girl'?" She shrugged. "I dunno."

"Do you like it when I do?"

"Yeah," she said after a moment, bashful and coy before she yawned and Tony could feel her begin to relax like she was starting to drift off. He rubbed her back and kissed her head again—

And that's when he stopped caring about getting her back.

Because he didn't want her to go back. He wanted her to stay there, with him. OK, look, he wasn't an idiot, and he knew it wouldn't be easy, but he didn't just _know _this was his daughter, he _felt _it in his bones. This was his flesh and blood, this obstinate little titan too smart for her own good, and the hell anyone was taking her away from him. Bruce would sigh at him and shake his head; Rhodey would give him that _look _and try to use reason to remind him that he couldn't do this.

Pepper would… Well, Pepper would probably stay away for a while. But that was OK. He could handle them. What was he supposed to do? Put her up for adoption? Abandon her on the street? They didn't know what universe she even came from. What if they were able to tap in that, and what if they sent her to the wrong universe? A bad universe? A universe of war where some horrible alien race had conquered and enslaved humanit—

OK, no, not the time to freak out. He kept his eyes open so that he could use his surroundings to ground him, and he took several short, panicked breaths as he tried to get control of himself. He couldn't close his eyes. If he did, he'd see it, and he couldn't— he didn't—

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. He wasn't there. He wasn't trapped on the wrong side of a wormhole. He was in his penthouse, in his tower, in New York, in the year 2012. He was currently cuddling with an alternate universe daughter from the future, but other than that, there was nothing odd about the situation. He was fine. He was OK. He couldn't panic. Not here. Not now.

"God, does this ever go away?" he muttered. He rubbed a hand over his face before he reached up and grasped hold of the hair atop his head and pulled on it some, a nervous habit more than anything else.

But Olivia didn't answer, and Tony figured it was because she had fallen asleep on him, his daughter, his baby girl.

He'd slaughter anyone that harmed one hair on her head.

The elevator door opened, and Bruce called out, "Hey, Tony, I was talking with Dr. Foster, and I think I might have something—"

"_Shh!_" Tony hissed as Bruce met up with him. He put his finger to his lips and motioned to the slack little body on top of his, and Bruce gave him a _look _and said, "Tony, I know you're having fun, but I think I have—"

"I don't want her to go back," he murmured. Bruce clamped his mouth shut and looked at Tony like he'd expected as much to eventually come out of his mouth.

"You don't?" he said and folded his arms.

"Look, we don't know where she actually comes from. For all we know, she was purposely sent here. Maybe where she comes from is terrible—"

"Yeah, really sounds like she comes from an awful place—"

"She's four, Bruce. She's probably not aware of what's really going on."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. "What's really going on here, Tony?" he asked, exhaustion coloring his tone.

"Exactly! We don't know! For all we know, she comes from a world of war and pestilence, and alternate universe me sent her here because he knew—"

"With _you_, Tony. What's really going on with _you?_"

Tony blinked. "Not following."

Bruce sighed out a breath and sat down on the coffee table so that he was more at Tony's eye- level. "First, you denied her existence, then you accepted that she at least existed but you were bound and determined to get her back, _now _you want to keep her here."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Tony tilted his head, perplexed that Bruce could even ask such a question. "Because. She's my daughter."

Bruce took a deep breath and repeated, "She's your daughter," like he was trying to follow Tony's train of thought and wasn't quite following.

"Yeah, Bruce. She's mine. She's my flesh and blood. She has my DNA. God's sake, Bruce, she _looks _like me."

Bruce went to respond, but Olivia whined from Tony's chest and said, "_Papa! _Tryin'a sleep!"

"I'm sorry, baby girl—"

"Baby girl?" Bruce murmured, but Tony ignored him.

"—hey, how 'bout I let you sleep in mine and Daddy's bed, yeah? You'd like that?"

"Yeah," she said with a sleepy nod and pushed her head further into the middle of his chest, but she frowned when her cheek rubbed against the arc reactor, and she pushed herself up a little and poked at it. The cool blue glowed dim through his dark shirt, and Olivia's eyes went a little wide and said, "Papa, what's _that?_"

Bruce gave him a knowing look, but he scowled and waved him off then turned his full attention to his daughter.

"It's my arc reactor."

She gasped and sat up, and Tony groaned a little as the bulk of her weight settled on his abdomen.

"OK," he said with a groan and sat up with her, settling her to the cushion next to him as the blanket fell away from them. "Can't sit on Papa's gut like that no matter how soft it is."

"Papa, you gots an arc weactor like th' Iron Man?"

He frowned at her. "Well, I am Iron Man."

"Yeah, but you don't gots an arc weactor!" She frowned. "Iron Man gots an arc reactor." She pointed at the middle of her chest. "Right here."

"Just like your 'L's, you pronounce your 'R's when you want to."

"But you don't." Her eyes went wide and a little soft. "Didja get hurt? Are you hurt, Papa? D'ya need Daddy to come home and kiss it better?"

"Hey, whoa!" he said and put his hands on either of her small shoulders. "No, I'm fine, baby. I just…" He made a hesitant face and scratched the back of his head. "I _don't _have an arc reactor?"

"Not in a _long _time."

"Uh…what happened to it?"

"Tony, she's not going to know—"

She heaved out a heavy and annoyed breath. "D'ya have 'mesia again?"

"What's 'mesia'?"

"Amnesia," Bruce said, and Tony glanced up to him. He shrugged and added, "Guess you got hit with it at some point in her lifetime. According to her, Cap cried because you were out for a while and you forgot who she was. Guess which was the bigger offense to her."

"I can only imagine," he muttered then turned back to his daughter. "No, I don't have amnesia, but, uh, just tell me what you know about it."

She shrugged. "I dunno. Y' had one, but then y' took it out, 'n' sometimes Daddy gets a yucky look on his face when y' talk 'bout it 'cuz they had to play Operation on you 'n' Daddy says he doesn't like t' think about it."

"Did you get that?" Bruce asked, but Tony shrugged.

"Close enough," he said, surprised that there could ever come a point in some world where he would be able to take out the arc reactor. He wasn't sure how that was possible — did that mean he was able to finally rid himself of all the shrapnel? — and even though it was a bit painful or uncomfortable or maybe caused him slight breathing problems, he had come to accept it as part of him, not as a burden but as a privilege, a terrible privilege but still a privilege.

But if he could rid himself of it, boy did that sound nice.

"Hey," he said and turned his attention back to his yawning daughter, "you want to go take a nap in my bed?"

She nodded, and he stood up and scooped her up into his arms, and she squealed with laughter and cried out a happy, "Papa!" as she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her upstairs.

He got up to his bedroom and walked in, forgetting that he hadn't dared set foot in it since Pepper had been up here to pack a bag, and he went over to the bed and dropped Olivia down in the middle of it, and she laughed and bounced a little and ran her hands over the duvet and said, "Papa, d'ja get a new bed cover?"

He blinked and looked at the one on his bed. Truthfully, he didn't know how old that was. Pepper had probably picked it out.

"Uh… Hey, why don't you settle in and take a nap, yeah? You're going to be cranky if you don't."

She nestled into the pillows and said a petulant, "No, 'm _not_," which completely belied her point, and Tony went over to the closet and pulled out a blanket that he thought had been washed recently and draped it over the little girl snuggled into the middle of his bed, her eyes closed and her mouth slack like she'd already fallen asleep. He stood back and gazed at her a moment, and figuring there was nothing wrong with it, he leaned over and brushed his hand over her hair and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and said, "Sleep tight, baby girl."

"Papa, where's Iron Cap?"

Tony startled a little bit as he stood back up. "Uh, _who?_"

"Iron Cap," she repeated, drowsiness evident in her voice. "I always sleep with Iron Cap. Did that man take it?"

Tony hesitated before he brushed his hand over her hair again and said, "Yeah, I think he did. We'll have to get you another one."

She didn't say anything, just shifted a little to get more comfortable, and he murmured to JARVIS to lower the lights and put the shade at 75%. As JARVIS complied, he went over to the door and went to let himself out. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, he heard Olivia murmur, "When's Daddy comin' home?"

"Soon, baby girl," he said only because it seemed like the right thing to say. "Soon."

She just shifted onto her side, facing away from him, and he left the room and closed the door behind him, and he went to go back downstairs where Bruce unquestionably still sat, but he thought about Olivia's previous-day indignation, and he instead went the other way toward the room that he'd been in maybe once, the one Pepper had had every intention of turning into an office.

He walked in, the lights coming up immediately, and looked over what was little more than a utilitarian affair with a desk, a chair, a bookshelf, and a filing cabinet. He thought for a moment what it might look like with a different colored wall — Olivia seemed like a girly-girl, so probably pink or purple — and a little canopy-topped bed with a pastel colored bedspread — or maybe whatever cartoon characters were popular at the moment — and stuffed animals and dolls.

He'd never given much thought to children or a family. He hadn't exactly felt the love from his parents (at least, he hadn't felt the love from Howard, that was for sure), and he was aware of the fact that he was, at times, too much like his father for comfort, which didn't exactly bode well for his own parenting skills (or lack thereof). He didn't detest the thought of children, and he had no desire to bring one into the world simply so that he would have someone to hand the company to on his deathbed, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit that there was a part of him that had thought, for a brief flicker of a moment when things were at their peak with Pepper, that maybe, just _maybe_…

He shook his head and left the room. He went back downstairs and found Bruce now sitting on the couch, waiting for his return, and he forced a tight smile at him and ignored that sad-eyed look on his face that said he was disapproving of Tony's actions but had no actual way of being able to stop him.

"Tony, she can't stay here."

"Where else is she going to stay? Where do you get furniture for kids? Her sleeping in my bed will be OK for a couple days, but after that—"

"_Tony_," Bruce said with a sigh. "You _can't _keep her. We have to figure out some way of getting her back where she belongs."

"Do we?" he asked and picked up a tablet he'd found lying around. He sat down at the bar and clicked on the display and began to search for child-sized furniture.

"Yes, we do," Bruce said and strolled over to him. "You don't even know if she's from this world—"

"Exactly," he said and looked up to where Bruce now stood at his elbow. "Look, I know you think it'll be easy as pie to get her back where you think she belongs, but what if that's the point? What if she doesn't belong there anymore? What if she belongs here? What if this is always how it was supposed to go? She was always supposed to come here."

Bruce sighed a little and shook his head. "_Tony…_"

"Look, I know you think I'm going crazy, and I know you think this is partially because Pepper just walked out on me—"

"I think it's completely because Pepper walked out on you."

"—but it's not. It's… Look, I know I'm not exactly what you think of when you hear the word 'dad', but being that my father was someone that had absolutely no business in _being _a father, all I have to do is take his shitty example and do the exact opposite. I already know you have to actually pay attention to the kid. And telling them that you love them really goes a long way. And I don't… Look, it sounds crazy, but I feel it, Bruce. I can feel it in my bones. She's my daughter, and I just know that I would rip the limbs off of anyone that would even think of harming one hair on her head, and I… I don't think I can lose that now."

Bruce frowned at him, and he folded his arms and leaned against the bar and said, "Tony, I'm not doubting that you think you feel this way—"

"I don't _think _I feel it. I _know _I feel it. Look, I don't know how to explain it, but it's just…it's not a _gut _feeling, it's not like an instinct, it's just something I know beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true. We don't know how she came here, but by that same token, we don't know that she's not supposed to stay here. She knows me. She knows all of us. I can't just turn her out on the street or stick her in the system. But I can take care of her—" He put his hand up to stop Bruce's complaint. "Yeah, OK, I know I can't even really be trusted with a potted plant, but if alternate universe future me can figure it out, I think I can figure it out."

Bruce stared at him a moment then heaved out a sigh and said, "You're not going to listen to a word I say about this, are you?"

"At most, I can promise to take it under advisement."

Bruce was quite a moment before he nodded and said, "Just…promise me you'll _think _about this, Tony. Actually _think _about it. I know how you can get…obsessed with projects—"

"This is not a _project _to get obsessed with. This is—"

"I _know_, Tony. That's the problem. I know she's not a project, and I know on some level you know that, too, but you…tend to treat things _as _projects."

Tony winced back from him. "I think I'm enough of an ass _not _to treat a child like a project. I had enough of that from my father, OK? I know _not _to do it with my own kid."

"Yeah? Well, what about when the Cap comes back? When this chatterbox little four-year-old runs at him and calls him 'Daddy' and doesn't understand why you two aren't kissing even though she thinks it's gross? She's used to a certain…_way_…that you two act around each other, and I can tell you right now, Tony, neither one of you is a good enough actor to fake that kind of thing to a kid that takes its very existence in her life for granted. Or what about the sister she claims to have? That she's never going to see again?"

"I didn't say it would be perfect!" he snapped and hopped off the bar stool. He scowled at Bruce and padded his way over to the couch, tablet in hand as JARVIS pulled up an array of bedroom suites that might best suit a child. "I know it's not going to be easy, but I know that if I don't at least _try_, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

Bruce could do nothing more but shake his head, and he pushed himself away from the bar and went back over to the elevator. "If you change your mind, I'll be down in my lab. Like I said, I think I found something that might help us."

"Yeah huh," he said, disinterested, scrolling through the selections on his tablet.

He didn't bother to notice when Bruce left. Probably when he'd stopped talking. He spent his time curled up on the couch and bookmarking possible selections, and he didn't realize how long he'd been sitting there until he heard a small voice call from the top of the stairs, "Papa?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"C'n I come down the stairs by myself?"

"I saw you run down the steps before."

"Yeah, but you yell at me 'bout it. How come y' didn't yell at me b'fore?"

"Oh, because I had a lot of other things on my mind. Here—"

He set the tablet on the cushion and got to his feet, and he went up the steps and grabbed her one hand and said, "Hold onto the railing, OK?"

"'Kay," she say and let him lead her down the steps, grasping a tight hold of his hand (or however tight a four-year-old could hold) and holding onto the railing like she'd been told. He led her down into the living area and she ran over and plopped onto the couch face-down and then flopped on the cushions until she'd gotten herself comfortable, and as Tony snatched up his tablet again and sat back down, she said, "Papa, when c'n we bake Christmas cookies again?"

He glanced over at her. "Probably when it's Christmas."

"When's that?"

"Quite a ways away."

She groaned like that was the worst thing she'd ever heard. "Ugh, but _why?_"

"Don't look at me. I didn't figure out the calendar."

"C'n I watch TV?"

He reached out to the table and grabbed the remote. "Sure, kiddo," he said and handed it over to her. "Have at it."

For the next hour or so, Olivia contented herself flipping through the stations, becoming bored with her selections almost as easily as she was able to select them. Tony bookmarked more of the necessities he might need if he was really going to do this — clothing, the proper foods, toys — and he was just contemplating a 'my first chemistry set' when he heard the elevator open again, and he sighed and said, "Nope, Brucie, still haven't changed my mind."

"So you are thinking about doing this crazy-ass thing?"

He looked up just as Rhodey — evidently back from his hastily-arranged lunch with 'a friend' that was unquestionably a meet-up with Pepper — came into his line of sight, blocking the couch's view of the TV, and Olivia grumbled and bounced around, trying to see around him, before she finally said, "Unca Rhodey, tryin'a watch TV!"

He gave her a somewhat neutral look before he stepped aside and turned his attention to Tony. He folded his arms and said, "Bruce said you're thinking about just letting her stay here."

"I might be."

Rhodey frowned and said, "Look, Tones—"

Tony stood up, tablet in hand. "I know what you're going to say, so save your breath. I know this isn't ideal, and I know that maybe it's not even my best idea—"

"At best I can say it's not your worst."

"—but do we actually possess the technology to even begin to try to figure out where she comes from never mind _when? _And who's to say that where she comes from isn’t— Who's to say _this _isn't where she's supposed to be? This isn't— OK, I know I can be kind of spontaneous, and I know I can get crazy things in my head, but this isn't _like that_, Jim!"

"It's not?"

"No, it's not. It's…"

He shot a glance at where Olivia sat enraptured by some kid's cartoon, and he took hold of Rhodey by his elbow and led him over to the kitchen to allow for some more privacy.

"Look," he said when they were presumably out of Olivia's earshot, "I don't expect you or Bruce to understand this, and I don't know how to explain it myself, but I just _know _that she's my daughter. I _know _she's mine. I _know _I'm her dad — her 'papa.' I can feel it, Jim. I can honest-to- god feel it in my bones. She looks like me, for god's sake! You can't deny that."

"No," he said with a slight shake of his head, "but that doesn't mean—"

"What? That I have a responsibility to take care of her? To provide for her? To protect her? To make sure she's OK? Come on, you really think we have the technology to send her back to where she comes from? We're years away from that! Barring something falling right into our laps, she's here for the duration, and what am I supposed to do? Abandon her? Put her up for adoption? Throw her into the system? She... She loves me, Jim. She trusts me. She looks up to me. This isn't the way I looked at my father. She's not desperately looking for any way to make me pay attention to her, to get me to say, _Good job, kid _or _Nice work, kid _or _You're not just a means to an end, kid_. She takes for granted that I'm there for her, that I care about her, that I love her. I can't… I can't lose that. I don't want to lose that."

He averted his gaze, unable to take the pity he saw staring back at him from his oldest friend, and he expected a rebuttal along the lines of what Bruce had given him, but instead, Rhodey just reached out, clamped a solid grip of his shoulder, and said, "You know you're the one that has to explain this to the Captain, right?"

Tony looked up at him, awed. "You mean you think I'm right?"

He shrugged. "Mostly think I wouldn't ever want to be in your shoes. I still don't know about this whole her being your daughter thing, but if you believe it, then that's good enough for me."

Tony nodded and swallowed, a lump having formed in his throat, and Rhodey pulled him into a one-armed hug and patted his back and said, "I can run interference on it if you need me to."

Tony nodded and returned the hug, and Olivia strolled into the kitchen and looked up at Tony and said, "Papa, 'm thirsty. C'n I have somethin' t' drink?"

Tony grinned at her and pulled away from Rhodey, and he led her over to the fridge and said, "Sure, baby girl. What do you want? You want your juice? J, you ordered that juice for me, didn't you?"

"_I'm sorry, Sir. I have no record of any such order being given for juice._"

Olivia looked up at the ceiling, face pinched, and muttered, "Friday woulda gotten it," and Rhodey snorted a laugh and said, "I can do a run. What kind of juice is it?"

"Apple juice," Olivia said. "In th' little bottles like this." She held her two index fingers about four inches apart, one above the other, and Rhodey nodded and said, "I'll be right back."

She gasped in delight. "Unca Rhodey! C'n I go with you?"

Rhodey exchanged a look with Tony, and Tony shot daggers at him and shook his head slightly so that Olivia wouldn't see. He looked like he was trying not to laugh before he turned his attention back to Olivia and said, "I'll be right back. I promise."

She grumbled and folded her arms in a pout, and Rhodey eyed her a moment, head tilted in thought, before he said, "Does she… She looks familiar when she does that, but I can't figure out who—"

Tony glanced down and looked at the little sourpatch, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, a furrow formed between her brows. It was less a look of petulance and more a look of displeasure and disappointment, like Rhodey had made a choice she was thoroughly unimpressed with and did not approve of.

"It's not you," Rhodey said, and Tony shrugged.

"Must be the mother, whoever she is."

But Rhodey just shook his head a little and said, "But it looks so familiar…" before he shrugged and headed out to the store for Olivia's juice.

~*~

"And you're _sure _this is what she wants?"

"Yeah huh."

"Positive?"

"Would I lie about something like this?"

"No, but you might have misheard."

"Trust me, kewpie doll, I thought I _did _mishear. That's why I asked her to repeat it about five times to make sure. And would you believe? She gave me attitude for it!"

Rhodey just laughed as he sat at the island and watched Tony mix the pieces of cut up hot dog into the macaroni and cheese mixture Olivia had requested for dinner that evening.

"What? _Your _child? No! What'd she say?"

"Asked if I needed to get my ears checked 'cause I was getting old." He stopped mid-stir and looked point-blank at Rhodey. "Seriously, the brass balls on that little brat!"

He went back to mixing the child-approved concoction, and Rhodey said, "Which you have done nothing to dissuade from the moment she arrived here. And if _you _haven't done anything to stop her, god knows how badly she walks over her real father."

Tony stopped stirring but didn't look up from the mess of yellow and pink glop. He knew he wasn't Olivia's real father. He _knew _that.

But god, did it hit him somewhere right behind the arc reactor when he thought about that.

He went back to stirring, but Rhodey must have seen him falter just the slightest, as the next word out of his mouth was a mournful, "_Tony_."

"_What?_" he cried out, more defensively than he probably should have, especially given the way Rhodey's eyebrows went up on his forehead. He slammed the spoon into the pot. "I _know _I'm not her real dad, OK? I know, but— I just— I have no way of knowing where she comes from, and I have no way of getting her back there, so unless some magical little portal-opener-thing falls into my hands, she's stuck here, and that, my boo bear, makes her mine by default. Yeah, maybe I'm not her _real _dad, but I'm her dad, OK? I'm her dad."

"I didn't say you weren't," Rhodey said, quietly, like he was trying to avoid upsetting him. "I just said her real dad— I wasn't even trying to— Look, it was just a bad joke, all right? It was a stupid joke." He motioned at the pot. "Is that even edible?"

Tony frowned and looked at it. "What? I followed the directions on the box. I'm not completely helpless in the kitchen, and according to my daughter, I'm a pretty good cook. The extent of the Cap's abilities seem to be boiling water."

"And have you figured out how you're going to explain that one—" he nodded his head toward the living room where Olivia sat watching cartoons — "to him?"

"No," Tony replied and went over to a cupboard to grab a bowl. "But he won't be back for a while. I've got time to figure it out."

He grabbed one then grabbed a second one because fuck it. He wasn't above eating macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs in it. He set the bowls on the counter then spooned out two helpings, one smaller and more child-friendly than the other. He glanced back to Rhodey and said, "You want in on this?"

Rhodey made a slightly hesitant face and said, "Nah, I'm good, Tones. Besides, I've actually got to be leaving pretty soon."

"What?" Tony asked and set the bowls on the island. "I thought you were in town for a couple days?"

Rhodey grimaced a little and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, but I got a date—"

Tony shot him a pointed look. "An actual 'date' or another secret rendezvous with Pepper to talk smack about me?"

"We didn't talk smack about you."

"Oh, so you _did _go and see Pepper before!" he said and surprised himself by not feeling at all jealous or envious heartbroken at that fact. Just curious. Maybe he just had other things on his mind?

But Rhodey just stared at him, and Tony shrugged and said, "All right. Topic for another time. So, is it a woman? Are you ditching me for a woman?"

Rhodey just continued to stare at him.

"Or a dude," he amended and put his hands up in slight defense. "Hey, an alternate universe version of me is evidently fucking Captain America, so—"

"It's not a dude," Rhodey said, his voice flat.

"So, it is a woman. Is it Pepper?"

"It's not Pepper."

"But it _is _a woman?"

"Look, it— it's just drinks."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Tony said and grabbed a couple spoons from the flatware drawer he'd recently familiarized himself with. "It's just drinks," he said and set the spoons down on the island. "Until it's dinner. Until it's meeting her parents. Until it's china patterns and silver and linens and the next thing you know, she's got you living in a three-bedroom Cape Cod in the suburbs."

Rhodey merely blinked at him. "Or a big-ass tower in the middle of Midtown."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Point?"

"You and Cap?"

Tony scoffed and went over to the fridge to grab one of the small bottles of juice Rhodey had bought earlier. He hit the door with his elbow to close it and shook the bottle a little as he went back over to the island.

"Completely different," Tony replied. "Alternate universe. This Cap is so fucking straight you could set your watch to him."

"What does that even—"

"Point is," he said and unscrewed the cap on the juice then set the open bottle down beside the smaller portion of macaroni and cheese, "there is absolutely no threat of me settling down with Captain Anachronism whereas there is every chance in the world of you settling down with, uh, what'd you say her name was?"

"I didn't."

"Oh. Well, what is—? What? No. Honeybunch, why are you shaking your head at me?"

"No," Rhodey said and folded his arms atop the table. "I know you. You'll check up on her, and you'll have her entire life story complete with bank account, credit card, and driver's license numbers all before I set one foot out of this place."

Tony just blinked. "You say that as though it's a bad thing."

Rhodey sighed and dropped his head a little. "Whatever. Look, Tony, just—"

Tony grinned at him and sat down at the seat adjacent to him. "Oh!" he said, drawing the word out. "You like this one, don't you?"

Rhodey wouldn't meet his eyes as he said, "Tony, just give me—"

Tony put his hands up. "Say no more, _mon petit chou_. You may have the mystery of your mystery woman a little longer." He picked up his spoon and pointed at Rhodey with it. "But seriously, if I don't meet this mystery woman until the wedding, I'm going to be fucking pissed. I just want to put that out there right now so there's no confusion about it later on."

"Got it," Rhodey said with a slight nod, and Tony turned toward the direction of the living room and called out, "Livvy, dinner!"

"_Livvy?_" Rhodey murmured, but Tony just shrugged and didn't have a chance to explain as the tot in question came running in from the living room, clothes askew and hair all but fallen out of the ponytail holder that was hanging on for dear life. She climbed up onto the chair and began to dig in to her dinner, and Rhodey shot a pointed look between Tony and her and said, "Tones, look, if you're serious about this, maybe you might want to read a few articles about how to properly _clothe _them. I think you've got the feeding down."

Tony shoved a spoonful of the mixture into his mouth. "You know, it's really not that bad," he said around a mouthful of food, and Rhodey rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

"Whatever. I'm out."

Olivia frowned a little. "Unca Rhodey, are ya leavin'?"

"'fraid so, kiddo," he said then went around the island and stood behind her. "Isn't this bothering you?" he asked as he gathered up the loose strands of hair and began to work at putting it all back into a ponytail again.

She shrugged. "Papa usu'lly fixes it," she said and shoveled some more mac and cheese into her mouth.

Rhodey shot him a pointed look. "Did Papa hear that?"

Tony nodded. "Duly noted. Fix hair when it gets messy."

Rhodey finished putting her hair back into a ponytail, and he stood there and looked at it a moment before he frowned and said, "I can't believe it's gotten to the point that that was not weird at all for me."

"Fixing hair?" Tony asked.

"Fixing your daughter's hair." He put a hand atop Olivia's head and said to her, "Gonna be good for your papa while your Uncle Rhodey is gone?"

She tilted her head back to look at him, grinning as she held the spoon in her mouth. "'m always good!" she said, spoon still in her mouth.

He watched as Rhodey fought to keep from laughing — the sound ended up coming out as a small, snorted choke — before he said, "Somehow I doubt that," before he patted her atop the head and went over to Tony. "Hey," he said and put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm sorry. We didn't really get to talk about anything other than—"

He nodded his head in Olivia's direction, but Tony waved him off and said, "No big deal. Nothing else much to talk about. Pep and I will be fine. It wasn't meant to be anyway."

"Tony—"

"I'm not saying that because I feel bad for myself. I'm just stating facts. Pep and I will weather this. No biggie. Now, go have fun on your date. Try not to get married while you're at it."

Rhodey rolled his eyes yet again, but it was a fond roll of the eyes. "Bye, Tones," he said and squeezed his shoulder before he headed out of the kitchen and over to the elevator.

"Papa, where's Unca Rhodey goin'?"

Since he figured trying to explain the concept of a 'date' to a four-year-old would be headache- inducing, he just said, "Oh, just out. He'll be back, don't worry."

"Oh," she said, accepting the simple truth of it before she set her spoon down and reached out for her juice.

He suddenly realized he didn't have to ask Rhodey anything. He had a little blabbermouth sitting right beside him that would tell him anything he wanted to know. But he'd promised Rhodey he could keep the mystery alive a little while longer, and besides, there was no guarantee that — if the Rhodey that Olivia knew was even married — that he was married to the same woman there that he would eventually marry here, and there was no guarantee that the woman he was currently going to meet was that woman, anyway.

Fuck, it would have been easier if she'd just been from the future instead of an alternate universe.

He reached out and tucked behind her ear a few of the stray strands of hair that had escaped the ponytail holder. "Should probably see about getting you some new clothes, yeah? You've been running around in that for the last day-and-a-half."

She scowled at him. "I don' hafta get a bath, do I?"

Oh, yeah. That was… That was something he'd have to do, wasn't it? Unless she was old enough to bathe herself. Was four old enough for that? She clearly could use the toilet without help.

"Do you want to get a bath?" he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. "No."

"Then I guess we can let it go another night."

"Papa, where's Maddie?"

Tony sucked in a breath. He knew he'd be confronted with that eventually, but he was kind of hoping to put it off a little while longer. If only because he hadn't figured out a good explanation for it yet.

"Uh, well," he said and blew the breath out, "she, ah— Your aunt's babysitting her."

Her eyes went wide. "Anna Tasha?" she asked, almost unable to contain the excitement and glee in her voice.

"Uh… Yep. That's the one."

"I though' she was 'venging with Daddy and Unca Sam and Wanda?"

"She came home early."

"Oh," she said with an easy shrug. "Then Unca Bucky musta come home early, too, 'cuz Anna Tasha and Unca Bucky say we're too much to handle alone. They always gots t' back up."

"What?"

"That's why they gots married. Like you 'n' Daddy did. But I wasn't there when you 'n' Daddy got married, was I?"

OK, so alternate universe Romanoff was married, and evidently to someone named 'Bucky,' whoever that was. The only 'Bucky' that came to mind was the Cap's old pal from the war, but unless that Bucky somehow either survived the fall from the train or didn't even fall off the train to begin with, that was next to impossible.

"Uh…probably not, baby girl."

"That was fun. I wanna be a flower girl again. Papa, when Anna Tasha 'n' Unca Bucky get married again, can I be the flower girl again?"

He laughed a little. "I have a feeling they were only planning on doing it the one time, kiddo. Sorry."

She frowned. "Oh." She brightened. "How 'bout when you and Daddy get married 'gain?"

He swallowed. Yeah, this…this was going to get awkward at some point. "Same thing," he said and hoped she didn't detect the unease and hesitance in his voice. "Just the one time."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "But I wanna be a flower girl again! Was a good flower girl, Papa?"

He grinned at her. "The best," he said and brushed a light hand over-top of her head.

"Yeah," she said and scraped up the rest of her mac and cheese with her spoon. "Papa, c'n I go stay with Anna Tasha and Unca Bucky, too?"

"Uh, not tonight. Why? Aren't you having fun with just us?"

"Yeah," she said around her last mouthful of food. "But Anna Tasha promised she'd show me how to beat up bad guys the next time I stayed over!"

Tony nearly choked. "She _what?_" he said, nearly coughing out the words. "She said that to a four-year-old?"

Her eyes went wide, and she gasped and put her hand to her mouth. "Uh oh," she said from behind her hand. "I wasn't s'pposed t' tell you. She said you'd get mad and you wouldn't let me stay there no more."

"Yeah? Well, she's not wrong."

She frowned and stuck her bottom lip out as she bounced in her chair a little bit. "Pwease, Papa? Pwease can I stay there still? I'll be good. I won't beat up any bad guys. I promise."

"What sort of people do we let you hang out with?" he muttered to himself and shook his head a little, and he watched as she scowled at him and sat back in her chair, arms folded.

"You 'n' Daddy hafta talk about it, don't you? That's what you said when Unca Hawky let me play with the bow and arrow."

Tony did choke this time — on air.

"He— He _what?_" he sputtered. "The hell did that birdbrain let you do?"

She shrugged. "Nate's younger 'n' me 'n' he lets him play, too."

Tony felt the blood drain away from his face. "You…have a brother?"

She rolled her eyes. "_No_, Papa! He belongs t' Unca Hawky. You know that! But you told Unca Hawky you're gonna take Nate away from him 'cuz he's too r'spons'ble."

"I think you mean 'irresponsible.' I let these lunatics babysit my flesh and blood?"

"Th' only r'spons'ble one you say is Unca Sam 'cuz he's the best at being m'ture. You say all th' others are like the loony ticks that ran away from the 'sylum."

Sam… Sam… Sam… Did he know any 'Sam's? Whoever he was, he was starting to like the sounds of this guy.

"And Unca Rhodey and An' Pepper," she added. "They're the only 'ture ones. You 'lways say the rest are crazies, and then Daddy says, _Tony, that's not nice_. But then you say he can't talk 'cuz the craziest ones are on his side. But then Daddy says you knew what you were gettin' into when you gots married. What's that mean, Papa?"

"It means…"

He furrowed his brow.

What it meant was that Cap and Tony Stark were the most disgustingly saccharine couple he'd ever in any way borne witness to, and he was starting to develop diabetes from their cuteness. God, he could even see that exchange in his mind. Goofy smiles, soft voices, and probably ending with a kiss.

Not that he was in any way jealous or envious of that fact.

He just shook his head and moved onto more pressing matters.

"You mean he's perfectly A-OK leaving you and your sister alone with those screwballs?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. You 'r Daddy's usu'lly around. We're not 'lowed to be by ourselves. You 'n' Daddy 're 'fraid someone's gonna try to take us."

"Captain America and Iron Man's kids? Yeah, I could see why someone would want to—"

Oh, yeah, that… That was a good point. A really good point. A terrifyingly good point.

"Wait, do we ever let you out of our sights?" he asked, a weird constricting feeling settling in his chest. Good god, if this had been his daughter, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to let her get more than three feet away from him at any time.

"Sometimes," she said with a shrug. "I dunno. You and Daddy don't like t' let us get too far 'way from you 'cuz you're 'fraid someone's gonna hurt us. And Daddy's 'fraid someone's gonna hurt you. He says he doesn't wanna be without us 'cuz one time, he fell asleep for a _long _time, and when he woke up, everyone was gone! And he was sad 'cuz he didn't have anyone. But then he found you and the 'vengers, and then he was happy again. But he's afraid he's gonna fall asleep again and we'll all be gone. Where would we go, Papa? And why would we leave Daddy? I don't want to leave Daddy."

Ah, so that Cap had had a period of adjustment to contend with and, from the sounds of it, had had some issues with coming out of the ice seventy years later. He wondered for a moment if their Cap did, too. He didn't _seem _to have too many problems. He'd been able to go out and lead them against an invading alien army, what, two weeks after coming out of the ice. Yeah, he'd done a little bike trip to try and 'find' himself or whatever, bit that didn't last long before he was back fighting the good fight with SHIELD thanks to some sly recruitment from Fury and Romanoff.

They'd talked a couple times, mostly about whether or not it would be worth it to try and make a go of this Avengers-thing, but never anything too deep or too personal, and the Cap didn't _seem _like he was having a hard time of it. Granted, he couldn't blame the guy if he were. That would be a hell of a thing to wake up to for anyone. But it didn't _seem _like he was having any problems.

Maybe their Cap was just built of stronger stuff?

"Papa?" Olivia said quietly, and Tony remembered then she'd asked him a question.

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"We're not gonna leave Daddy, are we? I don't want to make him sad."

He just blinked at her and tilted his head some as he considered what to say. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to lead her on to think that nothing bad would ever happen. So long as there was breath in his body, nothing bad would happen to her, but him and the Cap... That one was going to be a bit tougher to navigate. Because Tony would be totally cool with playing make believe — at least for a little while, and _totally _for Olivia's sake — but he wasn't sure the Cap would see it his way. And Bruce was right. She totally expected for him and the Cap to act a certain way, and she was savvy enough to catch wind of the fact that something wasn't quite right between her daddy and her papa—

Jesus fuck, the fact that he was even thinking of himself and the Cap in those terms...

Anyway, she was clever and aware enough to catch onto it, and yeah, honestly, he and the Cap probably weren't the best actors. They probably couldn't fool a four-year-old that had known only that her entire life. She hadn't raised too much of a stink about things being different since her arrival, but that seemed to be because she placed all of the blame on that 'bad man,' the one that had no doubt had sent her there in the first place. He had taken her toys and her clothes and changed the color of her bedroom because he was mean like that. Something told Tony if there really was such a 'bad man,' his aims weren't as benign as all that, and he thought for a moment that the crazy shit that had happened in that other universe could totally happen here in this one, especially after what had happened with Loki and the Chitauri only a month earlier. But he pushed that to the back of his mind and decided to worry about that later. Right now, he just had to focus on getting her settled and comfortable.

And then he had go figure out how to explain it to the Cap because _that _was surely going to go over like a lead balloon.

"No, baby," he said because he was content to let her believe she was where she truly belonged a little while longer. "We're not. Anyone wants to take us away from him, they're going to have a fight on their hands."

Olivia nodded. "Good," she said, firm and proud. "And then I can do to them what Anna Tasha showed me to do. Wanna see?"

She was practically giddy, and she went to jump out of her chair presumably to demonstrate, but Tony reached out to her and said, "Yeah, not tonight, kiddo. And Papa's going to have to have himself a talk with Romano— _Aunt Natasha _about what are the proper things to demonstrate to a child."

Olivia's face fell, her eyes going wide and her mouth dropping open. "But I'm gonna help so we don't get taken 'way from Daddy!"

Tony dropped his head so that his chin touched the top of his breastbone, and he took a breath through his nose and let it out before he looked up at her and said, "I know, honey, but how 'bout you leave the heroics up to Daddy and Papa and the other Avengers until you get a little older, OK?"

She scowled at him and folded her arms. "When am I gonna be older?"

"When you're older."

"That's what you always say!"

"Yeah? Because it's the truth. Trust me, there's going to come a time in your life when you're going to look back on these innocent days of freedom and lack of responsibility fondly and wish you could go back to them."

"When's that?"

Tony's lips twitched as he tried oh-so-hard not to smile. He didn't want her to think he was laughing at her.

"When you're older, kiddo. When you're much older."


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Because Tony was both rich as well as a genius, he decided that too much television was no good for his little Nobel Prize winner — or whatever she chose to do with her life; he wasn't going to push her down a path she didn't want to go, and even if she wanted to be an exotic dancer… OK, that would be something they'd have to talk about — and according to Bruce, she'd mentioned her enjoyment of drawing. Tony didn't have anything in the penthouse or in the workshop that would suffice, but he knew Cap had some art supplies on hand — he'd bought them for the man himself, and because he was rich, he would totally pay to replace whatever he and Olivia used — so he scooped Olivia up into his arms and said, "Come on, kiddo. We're going to go find you some paper and some crayons."

"New crayons?" she asked, excitement coloring her voice. "Eh," he said and hit the button for the elevator, "close enough."

He stepped on and hit the button for the floor the Cap used when he was in town, and he expected some sort of question from Olivia when they stepped off onto the floor — so far as she knew, the Cap lived in the penthouse with them — but what he didn't expect was exactly what _kind _of question he'd get from her.

"Where's all of Daddy's pitchers?" she asked as she turned her head to take in the room.

"Huh?" he asked and stopped in the middle of the living room area. Now, if he were the Cap, where would he keep his art supplies?

She pointed at the admittedly barren walls. "Daddy's pitchers. He has pitchers that he did of all the Avengers 'nd some other things like trees and skyscrapers. Did he sell them?"

"Uh, why would he sell them?"

She huffed. "_You _say he should sell them! So he can give the money to hungry organs."

"Organs? You mean orphans?"

"Yeah. You say people'll pay out th' ass for that kinda shit an' it's yours and Daddy's duty t' help people that don' have what we do."

He just gazed over her earnest and open face. "You really do hang on my every word, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"You listen to everything I say— At least, you listen to the stuff you _want _to listen to."

She nodded vigorously.

"OK, maybe you shouldn't hang on _that _tightly."

"Wha's that mean?"

"You said a couple of bad language words there, kiddo. Don't think I didn't hear them."

Her eyes went wide. "But that's what you said! Daddy heard it, too. He tol' me I didn't hear that, but I heard it!"

He decided to head over toward the bedroom because that seemed like the best bet. "Daddy and I don't seem to get much time to ourselves," he muttered.

"Nope," Olivia replied, and of course she did. Tony would have to have been nuts to think she wouldn't weigh in on it. "'cept sometimes, at night, when I have a bad dream or I need a drink'a water and I can't get in your room right away, and you have to tell me to wait 'cuz you're busy playin' and you gotta put your toys 'way first. I don't know why I can't come in when you 'n' Daddy 're playin'. You come in my room when I'm playing with my toys."

He stopped beside the door to what was the Cap's bedroom and stared at her a moment as he tried to process exactly what she'd just informed him, and his brain almost short-circuited at the conclusion it came to.

Alternate-universe him and the Cap _definitely _had sex.

"Whelp," he said, "that answers that question."

Now, the bigger question: Who topped, and who bottomed? Or did they take turns? He had to admit that he himself probably wouldn't really _mind _bottoming for the Cap. He didn't think. It was hard to say. He hadn't done it much in his lifetime — maybe not even a handful of times — because contrary to what the world thought about Tony Stark, he was actually quite embarrassingly _vanilla _when it came to his sexual preferences, and bottoming required an insane amount of trust. It put one in an inherently vulnerable position, and Tony was not one for putting himself into vulnerable positions. Not intentionally, anyway.

It was one reason he didn't have that much experience with long-term relationships. A casual fuck was just that. Casual. Brief. Didn't require much commitment or investment. Didn't require one to put much of themself into it beyond what it took to get their rocks off. But a long-term relationship? That left one open to flaws and weaknesses. It left one open to being laid out, spread open, picked apart and not put back together. And Tony… Tony couldn't chance that. Because Tony feared he wasn't strong enough to put himself back together again when he was inevitably broken and left for dead. Because he always would be. Because people always left him. Even Pepper did, and Pepper was the only one he could even fathom allowing himself to be vulnerable for.

Though evidently his alternate-universe self had felt comfortable enough to take a chance with the Cap. So far, it seemed to be working out for him.

"What question?"

Tony just blinked and met her eyes, tying to draw himself out of the rabbit hole of painful thoughts he was falling into. He smiled at the honest and simple confusion that stared back at him.

"Hey!" he said, brightly, deliberately trying to change the subject. "Let's go pilfer some of Daddy's art supplies!"

"OK!"

"OK," he said and carried her into the bedroom. Hopefully, the Cap wouldn't get too angry about this, though hopefully, he would never know in the first place.

Tony set Olivia down on the carpeted floor of the utilitarian-styled bedroom. If he hadn't known the Cap had stayed there the previous week, he would have said it had never been used. There was no decoration, and at first glance, no personal effects. It looked as staid and barren as a cheap hotel room (or not cheap, thank you very much; Pepper had exquisite taste), and he put his hands on his hips and looked around the room as he tried to figure where the Cap would have stashed his supplies. He wouldn't have trashed them, would he? On principle. Not because _Tony _bought them but because Tony _bought _them. Cap was of that generation that was too proud to take a handout, and though Tony saw the items more as a gift, he wasn't sure that the Cap would

"Papa, this doesn't look like Daddy's paintin' room. None of his stuff's here! And _my _stuff's not here! An' there's a bed!"

"Yeah," he said and began to walk the room, "he's rearranging stuff."

"Where's my stuff? Why's there a bed?" she asked and climbed up onto the bed. He almost snapped at her to get off if only because he didn't want any evidence of this for the Cap to find, but she was small, and it wasn't like she could do that much damage, so he let her stay and bounce up and down on the bed a bit as he looked around the room for the supplies he'd bought for the Cap a couple weeks before.

"Huh, Papa?"

"What?" he asked and bent down to check under the bed, joints cracking painfully. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Again, just shy of forty-two. He wasn't _that _old yet.

"Why's there a bed in Daddy's paintin' room?"

He got back up again, his back popping as he straightened his spine. He muttered 'fuck' under his breath again then said, "I don't know, baby. You're going to have to ask him when he gets home. You know how he is."

"Yeah," she said with a nod as she settled down onto the bed, legs straight out ahead of her as she leaned back on arms braced to hold her upright, "he's an old man. Right, Papa?"

Tony snorted a laugh and checked in the closet. Bingo.

"Right," he said and grabbed what looked like a couple of unused sketchbooks and the pencil case. There was one sketchbook buried at the bottom of the pile that looked like it had been used since it was purchased, and Tony itched to pick it up and page through it, but he knew that would be the utmost invasion of privacy — even more than what he was currently doing — and he figured even the Cap deserved _something _for himself. He was sure the book contained mostly pictures of his old friends and comrades from the war, anyway.

"Come on," he said and closed the closet door. "We'll go back to the penthouse and do our drawing there."

"OK!" she said and bounded off the bed. Tony made to straighten the covers out, but he figured he'd get it when he came back to return the books and pencils — Cap wasn't due back for, what, a week? — and so he led Olivia back over to the elevator and hit the button for the penthouse floor.

When the doors opened, Olivia bounded back into the living room and over to the coffee table, and she plopped down on the floor and said, "Here, Papa! We'll draw here!"

"Yeah, it figures," he said and grimaced just a little as he got down on the floor with her. Again, just shy of forty-two. Not an old man. He set the books and the pencil case on the table, and Olivia gasped at it.

"Papa! Tha's th' 'spensive stuff!"

"Daddy said we could," he said quickly, which seemed to alleviate her concerns, and for the next hour, they sat and sketched out various things. Tony drew schematics for a new armor. Olivia first drew a picture of her family — and what the fuck! The Cap wasn't _that _much taller than he was! — then sketched the other Avengers, including ones Tony had never heard of like Falcon and Wanda and Vision. She drew what Tony figured was supposed to be DUM-E with a dunce cap on — evidently, that was something he did — then Pepper sitting behind a big desk 'doing important stuff' while Olivia sat on her lap and helped. Most of this was Tony having to read into the pictures or getting Olivia to explain it to him, as they were simple line drawings and stick figures, and it was really only the hair and eye colors and the size differences that set any of the characters apart.

And Cap was _not _a foot taller than he was. Jesus. Four, _five _inches at the most. This kid fucking exaggerated.

This was how Rhodey found them come nine-thirty that night, the table and floor strewn with sketches of plants and animals and robots and Avengers. Tony didn't even realize he'd arrived until he sat down on the chair adjacent to the table and reached out to get a better look at Olivia's War Machine picture.

"Is this me?" he asked, and Olivia nodded then pulled out another picture she'd done of Iron Man and War Machine. "These are nice. Can I keep them?"

She nodded, and Rhodey set the pictures aside before he turned to Tony and said, "Having fun?"

Tony just worked at sketching a new elbow joint for the armor. "More than you might think. How 'bout you, boo-berry?" He turned his wrist to glance at his watch. "Kinda early to be home from drinks, aren't you?"

Rhodey just sat back in the chair. "She has an early day tomorrow. Has to be somewhere by four. Asked if we could do lunch."

"Ugh," Tony muttered and made a face, "you just got friend-zoned. Sorry, sweetums."

Rhodey was quiet a moment, and Tony looked up just in time to see him make a somewhat coy face as he said, "Yeah, I don't think so."

"Did you get lucky? Please tell me you got lucky."

Rhodey shot a glance at an oblivious Olivia then said, "I'm not sure we should discuss that in front of your kid."

Tony waved off his concern. "Trust me. She's too young to know what that is."

"Yeah, and shouldn't she be in bed?"

Tony blinked and frowned. "What?"

"She's, what, four? She's a kid. It's nine-thirty. Shouldn't she be in bed?"

Both he and Rhodey turned to look at Olivia, who yawned and said, "Not sleepy."

Rhodey shot a pointed look at him, eyebrow raised and everything, and Tony sighed was about to push himself to his feet when the table began to buzz. Olivia frowned and sat back a bit as she tried to look for the source of the sound, and Tony grumbled and began to file through the scatter of pictures until he found his phone buried beneath that family portrait Olivia had drawn.

He snapped it up and read the read-out, and he choked on a breath when he saw that it was a call being placed by none other than Captain America himself. Ordinarily, his first thought would be to muse aloud to Rhodey, "_He actually knows how to use that piece of shit they gave him?" _but circumstances had changed quite a bit in the past thirty-six hours, and so without a word, he accepted the call and said a breezy, "Hey, Cap! What's got you up at this hour?"

Rhodey murmured a quiet, "Shit," his whole body slackening in a sort of 'jig is up' type of deal. Olivia, on the other hand, sat up at attention and said, "Daddy? Papa, s'that Daddy?"

Cap, for his part, just said a rather unsure, "Stark?"

"Uh, yeah. Who'd you think it would be?"

Tony could hear the hesitance and confusion feeding through the connection as the Cap said, "Uh, I wasn't— I think I might have dialed the wrong number. I—"

Olivia jumped up and tried to get closer to the phone. "Daddy, I love you! When're y' comin' home? I miss you!"

Rhodey face-palmed, and Tony made to cover the phone like he could block out Olivia's voice, turning to glare at her in a '_Please don't rat me out!_' sort of way, and the Cap was quiet for a moment before he said, "Excuse me?"

"Uh, television," Tony said quickly. "It's stuck on one of those Hallmark-type channels. You know the sort of schlock they play. Actually, you don't, but trust me, they do. I'm, uh, trying to fix it now."

"Did she just call you 'Daddy'?"

Before he could say anything, Olivia chimed in, "Daddy, Papa said we could use your art stuff you use for drawin'!"

He slapped a hand over his face and fell back against the couch, hoping to god Cap hadn't heard that or, if he had, actually believed it was something from the TV.

"Is that a child?"

Fuck. OK, option 2. "On the TV. Yeah."

"Sounds like she's right there in the room with you." Jesus, nothing got past this old dinosaur, did it? "Is it a she? I'm not good with voices when they're that young. She sounds young."

"Uh, yeah, she's a she, but she's on the TV, Cap. Nothing to worry about."

He jumped up, joints cracking, and scurried into the kitchen before Olivia could say anything that would really get him into trouble. He trusted Rhodey to keep her in the living room until he could return. "So, uh, what do you need?" he asked when he got to sanctuary. "I take it you didn't call just to exchange some pithy and sexually-charged banter."

"What?"

"Nothing," he said and leaned against the counter, dropping his voice almost to a murmur so that it hopefully wouldn't draw Olivia's attention to him. Rhodey would try to hold her, but she'd probably be able to wiggle her way out if she was determined enough.

"Oh, no, I, uh… I think I dialed the wrong number. I was actually trying to check my…_text messages? _Is that what they're called?"

Tony bit his lips together to keep from snorting out a laugh. "Yeah," he said when the moment had passed. "That's what they're called."

"Sorry if I disturbed you. Didn't mean to."

"No! No! It's fine. It's only nine-thirty here. Night is young. I'm not that old yet."

The Cap laughed, though it sounded a bit bitter and somewhat forced. "At least one of us isn't. Anyway, sorry. I hope you weren't— I mean, I hope I didn't disturb anything—"

"Nope. Not a thing. Told you. Trying to fix the TV. Got stuck on that stupid station."

"Sure," Cap said, "well, uh, take care, I guess. Sorry, again."

"Don't be sorry. Nothing to be sorry about," Tony said. "Happens all the time. When you get back, remind me to explain the horror of 'butt dialing' to you."

"Butt dialing?"

"Yeah, it's a thing that happens. Hey, what time is it where you are?"

Cap laughed. "Why? Checking up on me?"

"Hmm? No, just wondering why, if it's the dead of night, you're up checking your messages."

Cap was silent a moment, and Tony listened in for background noise so he could identify what sort of locale the Cap was calling from, but he couldn't hear anything.

"Guess I just couldn't sleep," Cap finally said. "I'll let you get back to your, uh, television, I guess."

Something weird constricted in Tony's chest at that. There was a funny tone to the Cap's voice as he admitted that he couldn't sleep, and Tony knew it wasn't something as simple as just not being able to sleep. There was more to it, probably more than even the Cap wanted to admit to himself at that moment in time, and Tony, god help him, almost offered to help him work through that.

Because for whatever reason, he couldn't stop imaging the Cap that Olivia kept describing, and that Cap...

But that wasn't his Cap — well, not _his _Cap, but the Cap that he knew — and so he instead asked "Said you'll be gone yet another week, right?"

"Uh, think so. Why?"

Tony shot a glance toward the living room. "Just trying to get a timetable in my head. That's all."

"Oh. Enjoy your _movie," _Cap said, and Tony would swear there was a slight teasing tone to his voice.

Wait, was the Cap flirting with him? No. No, Cap was straight as an arrow. He wasn't flirting. Cap didn't flirt. Not with the likes of him, anyway.

"I told you," he said with a faux groan, "it got _stuck_."

"Sure it did," Cap said with a laugh. "Sorry again."

"Stop apologizing!"

"Bye, Tony," he said, his voice light. Tony could almost believe the Cap had sort of enjoyed their brief conversation.

"See you 'round, Cap."

The call cut out, and Tony heaved out a breath and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Fuck, what was he going to do when Cap came back? How was he going to explain this?

How was he going to look at him and not think, _This is my husband in an alternate universe_?

He groaned and dragged his hands down his face, which was kind of awkward to do when he had the phone in one hand, and he took a breath and squared his shoulders and went back into the living room. He'd figure it out, but not right then. Cap wasn't due back for a week. He had time to figure it out.

"OK, cutie pie," he said and shoved the phone into his pocket. "Uncle Rhodey's right. It's time for you to go beddy-bye."

Olivia groaned and looked up at him from where she sat by Rhodey. Evidently, she'd been showing all of her 'pitchers' to him. "Oh, Papa! I don't wanna! 'm not sleepy!"

"Yeah? Well, you can be not sleepy tomorrow. Come on."

He reached down and scooped her up, and she laughed and allowed him to before she settled against him, her arms wrapped around his neck and her cheek pressed up against his.

"Say night-night to Uncle Rhodey."

"Night-night Unca Rhodey," she said with a yawn and a wave, and Rhodey smiled a little at her and said, "See you in the morning, kid."

Tony carried her upstairs and into his bedroom. He dropped her onto the bed, and she bounced around a little and tried to get comfortable, but Tony frowned at her ensemble and said, "You can't sleep in that again."

"C'n I wear my Elsa nightgown?"

He made a slight face. "Uh…not tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

He went over to the dresser, and he pulled open a drawer and dug through for a t-shirt or something she could wear. All he seemed to have at the moment were vintage band shirts, and with a heavy heart, he pulled one out and closed the drawer.

"OK," he said and turned around to face her. "I'm gonna let you wear this one tonight." He held up a black shirt with a rainbow prism splashed over it. "Pink Floyd. _Dark Side of the Moon_. 1973. Please try not to destroy it, OK?"

But Olivia just frowned and looked at it. "Isn't that the one Daddy broke?" Tony looked over the shirt then met her gaze again. "Uh? Huh?"

"'member? Daddy said you get him shirts that're too small, and you said nuh uh, you don't that's Daddy's size, then Daddy said you two are the same size and then he put on your Dark Moon shirt to show you and made it all big." She giggled a little and fell down onto the bed. "It was too small on him. You said it looked like another skin. And then you jumped on him and fell on the floor and then we _all _jumped on top 'f Daddy. 'n' then he put his arms around us like this—" she sat up and hugged her arms tightly around her torso and rocked herself from side-to-side a little bit, "—'n' said he was never, ever gonna let us go. But he did. 'cuz he broke th' shirt. 'member, Papa?"

She beamed up at him, eyes wide and innocent and shining with love, and Tony just shook his head some. Seriously, that Cap and Tony were pathetic.

"Yeah, I remember. But I got a different one," he said and went over to the bed. "Come on. Let's get you changed and into bed so you can go to sleep and be not sleepy tomorrow."

She yawned a little and allowed Tony to pull her purple Avengers t-shirt over her head, and he folded it and set it aside before he got her to wiggle out of her jeans with the colorful flowers etched onto the pockets and set them aside as well. He pulled the black Pink Floyd t-shirt over her head and threaded her small arms through the sleeves, and she was swimming in it, but it was only to sleep in.

He was going to have to see about getting her new clothes in the morning. "There we go. Hey, do you need to brush your teeth?"

She thought about this a moment then nodded, and Tony led her into the bathroom. He found a spare toothbrush and helped her brush her teeth — she did most of the work, thankfully — and he led her back into the bedroom and pulled down the covers on the bed.

"OK, squirt, here we—"

"C'n I sleep on Daddy's side?"

"Uh…sure?" he said as she bounded into the bed and curled up on the side of the bed that…had once been Pepper's.

Once. Try two days ago.

He shook his head to clear his mind of those thoughts — later, he'd worry about that later — and went over to pull the blankets up for her.

"All right, kiddo. Time to—"

"Aren't you going to bed, too?"

He met her earnest and hopeful gaze from where she lay there on the bed, and he exhaled a slight breath through his nose and said, "How 'bout I stay with you until you fall asleep? Uncle Rhodey's still downstairs. I don't want to be rude to him."

She yawned and said, "OK."

"OK," he replied and went over to his side of the bed and sat down. "JARVIS, put the lights down," he said, and without a word, darkness fell over the room.

He settled back against the headboard and folded his arms as he waited for the telltale signs of sleep from the little ball of energy laying there on what had once been Pepper's side of the bed (what that little ball of energy thought of as her Daddy's side of the bed), and in the quiet and the dark, he felt his eyelids droop a few times. He stubbornly fought to keep them open, but he figured a few minutes' rest wouldn't hurt him.

~*~

_He was falling._

_He was falling, and the bomb was going off, and the shockwave was headed right toward him._

_The suit was dead. He was relying on the gravitational pull of the portal back to Earth to yank him back home. He was losing air fast, and his eyelids were getting heavy. There was chattering in the background. Pepper was screaming his name. Rhodey was calling for him. The Cap was reminding him it was a one-way trip._

_They wouldn't keep the portal open much longer. They couldn't chance anything more getting through. He'd set the bomb off, but that didn't matter. They couldn't chance anything more getting through._

_And then he heard Black Widow's voice. "Sorry, Stark. Cap's giving me the order."_

_"What? No!" he tried to call out, but the words wouldn't come. He tried to open his eyes, but the blinding flash of the nuke going off was too much for his retinas to take._

_No, please! he tried to say. Wait a moment. Just wait! I can make it back. I can make it through. Don't strand me. Don't leave me up here. Don't — Don't —_

"Papa! Papa, wake up!"

Tony startled awake, gasping, pouring sweat. He blinked several times and tried to acquaint himself with his surroundings.

A bedroom. His bedroom in New York. In the Tower.

He sat up and clutched at his chest, unable to breathe. He tried to suck in several breaths, but he couldn't seem to get his passages to open, and he sputtered and gasped and threw his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned so far forward that his forehead almost touched his knees.

"Papa?" a little voice asked from behind him, but he ignored it as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on breathing.

He wasn't trapped on the other side of the portal. He wasn't stranded. He was home. On Earth. In New York. He was in his own bed. He was safe. He was OK. Nothing bad was going to happen to him.

He gasped out a few more breaths, and he jumped when he felt a presence behind him, out of the bed and to his feet and into a defensive position. He couldn't see anything for a moment. It was like the room was too bright, and his eyes weren't able to focus. But several breaths in, he was finally able to calm himself to take in the stationary expanse of the room, running his gaze from one wall to another, before he met the frightened eyes of a little girl sitting in the middle of his bed and swimming in a _Dark Side of the Moon _t-shirt.

"Papa, you OK?" she asked in a small and worried voice, and Tony swallowed and slowly relaxed his defensive position before he was able to stumble his way back to the bed. He sat down on the edge, and Olivia — he finally recognized her as his alternate universe daughter — went to cuddle up beside him, but he caught hold of her and pulled her onto his lap and cradled her tight against his chest, wincing only a little from the push and tug of the arc reactor.

"Fine," he finally croaked out. "Fine, baby girl. Just…just a bad dream."

"You have 'em, too? One time, a dinosaur was chasin' me 'n' I couldn't get away from him fast enough and he scratched me with his claws."

He let out a light laugh and cradled her a little closer. Fuck, if only his nightmares were as benign as that.

"Sounds like a really scary dream."

"It was! He was gonna eat me! But then I woke up and we had waffles for breakfast. C'n we have waffles for breakfast, Papa?"

"Sure, baby," he said and brushed his lips over the crown of her head. "Anything you want."

He finally seemed to get his resting pulse rate down to something manageable after a good fifteen minutes, and by that time, Olivia had fallen back to sleep, cradled as she was against his chest. Doing his best not to jostle her, he set her back down in the bed and pulled up the covers, and he brushed his lips over her forehead and bid her 'goodnight' before he got up and squinted at his watch to try to make out the time.

Two-thirty.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the irritation and prickle from ungroomed hair, but decided to go back downstairs to see if Rhodey was still up.

He wasn't, his friend having fallen asleep on the couch, and Tony thought about waking him up, but he decided not to disturb him. He shot a glance back at the steps and thought about going back to bed, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw that fucking mothership exploding in flames, and not wanting to chance another nightmare that would wake up Olivia again, he stumbled his way over to the elevator and went down to his workshop.

He wasn't sure how long he was there before the door opened and a little girl in a too-big t-shirt toddled on through, and he looked up from where he sat working on specs for the Mark XVI and watched as she padded over, yawning and clutching a pillow.

"Hey, string bean, what are you doing up?" he asked and looked around for a clock to see how long he'd been caught up in his work.

"I woke up and you weren't there, and _Jarbus _said you were here. How come you're here?"

She reached for him to pick her up, and, without thinking, he scooped her up and settled her onto his lap, and she yawned and set the pillow on the worktable and then leaned forward to rest on it.

"Oh, just finishing up some work that I didn't get to finish before," he said and rubbed her back a little. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

"Can't sleep without Iron Cap."

Yeah, Tony was going to have to figure out what this Iron Cap was pretty soon. A toy of some kind, he figured. Captain America in an Iron Man costume, maybe? Which was fucking stupid. "Yeah," he said, sidestepping the Iron Cap thing for the moment, "but you're sleepy."

"No, 'm not," she mumbled into the pillow, and he laughed a little.

"No, of course you're not."

"Wanna stay with you," she added, and Tony nodded his understanding. He wasn't about to chance going back to bed, but he couldn't very well let the kid sleep like this.

He glanced over to the couch at the opposite end of the room. It was pretty comfortable. He'd slept on it several times himself. It would probably do for the night.

"Come on, lily pad," he said and nudged her. "You're staying down here with me, you're going to at least sleep on something that could be construed as proper sleeping apparatus."

She was half-asleep already, and so he carried her over to the couch and set her down, and he tucked the pillow under her head then grabbed the blanket that was thrown over the back of it and laid it down over her. He tucked it in and murmured for JARVIS to dim the lights in this portion of the room before he went back over to his workstation and continued laboring with the Mark XVI.

He wasn't sure how long he was at it before he fell asleep, and, of course, he fell asleep bent over the worktable, cheek pressed against the cool metal. And he wasn't even aware that he had fallen asleep until he was awoken the next morning by a chipper four-year-old that remembered that she had been promised waffles.

Tony's back was screaming in pain from how he had slept bent over the table, and his chest felt a little tight from how the table had pressed against the reactor for several hours of exhausted slumber, and as Olivia excitedly chirped about shield waffles — whatever those were — and tugged on his hand, he groaned and sat back in the chair and said, "Whoa, wait a second, short- stack. Let Papa work the kinks out of his back first."

She frowned but didn't let go of his hand. "Again?"

"Just a couple minutes."

"Are you OK, Papa? Are you hurt? D'ya wan' me t' call Daddy? 'm allowed t' call Daddy if it's _really _'mport'nt."

"No!" he said quickly and forced himself to stand up. "Nope. I'm fine. See? No need to call Daddy."

Jesus, how could he even possibly begin to explain— Wait. How in the hell would she—

"But Friday's the one that calls," Olivia muttered and folded her arms. "I dunno if _Jarbus _knows how."

Oh, that's how.

He stifled a groan and stretched his back to work out some of the aches and kinks before he took her hand and led her over to the door.

"JARVIS can do everything Friday can. Maybe even more," he said as he led her out of the workshop and over to the elevator.

Olivia just scoffed as Tony ushered her onto the car. "No, he can't! Friday can do everything. Jarbus can't even call me the right name!"

"Why? What does he call you?"

"Miss Olivia."

Tony just blinked at her logic — or lack thereof. "Um, isn't that your name?"

She huffed. "Friday calls me 'Young Miss.'"

"And you like that one better?"

"Yeah."

He nodded his understanding as the car arrived at the penthouse. "Duly noted. J?"

"_Sir?_"

Tony led her off the car and through the living area and into the kitchen. Rhodey was still passed out on the couch. "Please note that from this moment on, you're to address my daughter as 'Young Miss' rather than 'Miss Olivia.'"

"_As you wish, Sir_."

"Not my wish, J," he said and began to search for something that resembled a waffle iron. "That's what Olivia wants you to call her, so that's what you're going to call her." He stood straight and frowned, hands on hips. "Hey, you know offhand if we've got a waffle iron in this joint?"

"_I believe there to be one in the cabinet beside the stove_."

"Oh!" Tony said as he opened the cabinet door and found the appliance in question. "Thanks, J."

He whistled a little and set it on the counter, and from her perch at the table, Olivia leaned over a little and said, "That's not the right one, Papa."

"Huh?" he asked and turned back to her. "What are you talking about? It's a waffle iron."

She pointed and frowned. "But that's not th' right one! That's not the one that makes th' waffles that look like Daddy's shield."

"His _shield_?"

"Yeah!" she chirped and sat up on her knees. "They have the star in the middle and then the circles that go around it—" She drew this out on the tabletop with her index fingers. "I want those waffles."

Jesus, they marketed the shit out of the Avengers wherever this kid came from, didn't they? He hoped someone was making decent money off the stuff.

God, did they have action figures, too? Little toys with their likenesses? Or maybe they looked more like those cartoon Avengers that were on her t-shirt. Those were more vague resemblances than anything that spoke to being completely modeled after the real McCoys.

He pulled the pancake mix out of the cupboard and read over the list of ingredients. "I have to fix that one," he said breezily. "It broke, so we have to use this one today."

"Aw, man!" she said and sat back, pouting and folding her arms. "I want th' ones like Daddy's shield."

"Maybe next time, kiddo," he said and put it on his list of things to make. A Captain America shield-inspired waffle iron sounded amusing as fuck. Actually, maybe that's how they got it? Maybe that Tony had had the brilliant idea one day to make one?

"Fine," she said with a huff.

It was the third edible waffle into the process (his first efforts had been too raw or too burnt respectively) when Rhodey found his way into the kitchen, and he just stood beside Tony and watched him pour the batter onto the iron before he shook his head and sat down in the chair adjacent to Olivia.

"Never thought I'd see the day," he mumbled, and Tony set the iron to cook and turned to him.

"You and me both, sweet potato. Hungry?"

Rhodey turned to see Olivia happily chomping away on her waffle — the one Tony had had to cut up into pieces — and he shrugged and said, "Are they edible?"

Tony rolled his eyes and grabbed his mug of coffee. "No, I'm feeding my own child poisoned slop. Baby girl, are they edible?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, they're good, Papa. Be better if they were Daddy's shield."

He just shook his head and tried not to laugh, and Rhodey frowned and said, "Wait, what?"

"A waffle iron that makes waffles that look like Cap's shield, I guess," he said with a shrug. "She gets a kick out of them."

"Even Daddy does. He says it's sack-a-lidges," she said and stuck a piece of waffle in her mouth with her fingers.

"Olivia, use your fork," Tony said, and she scowled and picked up her fork and began to use it to poke at what was left of her waffle.

"He says it's _what?_" Rhodey asked and looked at Tony in confusion.

"Sacrilegious," he replied without thinking. "I mean, can you blame him? That shield's like his security blanket or like his child or something. Probably sits there polishing it every night until it shines— And no, that was not bad innuendo about him polishing other things like his knob or something, OK? I mean like he sits there with a rag and a bottle of whatever you'd use on vibranium and just works at it into the night. Again, not innuendo."

Rhodey stared at him a moment before he shook his head, muttered something under his breath, then glanced over at Olivia. He did a double-take then inched his gaze from Olivia to Tony and said, "Uh…do you know she's wearing that?" as he pointed at the t-shirt.

"Yep."

Rhodey just blinked at him. "You won't even let _me _borrow one of those t-shirts. God forbid I breathe on them the wrong way. She's got syrup all over that one."

Tony looked to see that Rhodey was right and Olivia had somehow gotten sticky maple syrup down the front of the shirt but he shrugged. "What can I say?" he said and took a sip of coffee.

Rhodey muttered something under his breath then got up to pour himself a cup of coffee, and Tony set his mug down to pull the newly-cooked waffle off the iron. He set it on a plate and then set it at the seat Rhodey had taken just as JARVIS announced Bruce's arrival to the penthouse.

"Bruce!" Tony called out. "Come have waffles!"

He poured another ladle of batter onto the iron as Bruce shuffled his way into the room, hair mussed and still dressed in sleep clothes.

"I thought I smelled something burning," he said by way of explanation of his appearance, but Tony motioned to the island table and said, "Have a seat."

"You're…cooking?" Bruce asked and shared a look with Rhodey. Rhodey shrugged, and Olivia sat in her own little world as she continued to eat her waffle.

"I am not completely incompetent. Cooking is about creation. It's about making things. I can make things."

"It's about following directions," Rhodey said as he cut into his waffle. "Can you follow directions?"

"Within reason," Tony replied with a shrug. "I know you're not much for the java, my science brother from another mother, so how about some of that herbal tea shit— _stuff _you seem to enjoy so much."

"Language, Papa," Olivia said with a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, I know. Language. I know. What'd I tell you about hanging on my every word?" He began to search through the cupboards. "I'm sure we've got some herbal brew around here."

"Uh…who is this man?" he heard Bruce ask Rhodey.

"I don't know," Rhodey said, "but this waffle is actually pretty decent. I'm impressed, Tones. You're not actually an awful cook when you put your mind to it."

"Of course I'm not," he said and found a box of something called Cranberry Hibiscus. He tried not to make a face at it — or at the fact that it had probably been purchased by Pepper — and he pulled it out and showed it to Bruce. "How 'bout this?"

Bruce just winced back a little, probably because Tony had all but shoved the box in his face. "Uh… Why are you being so…"

"So _what_, boo-boo?"

Bruce just tweaked a smile at him. "That'll be fine, Tony," he said and nodded at the box of tea. Tony raised an eyebrow at his complete avoidance of the question, but he turned and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and filled it with water.

"You're cool with the microwave, right? I don't think I have an actual teapot here."

"That's fine, Tony," he said.

As Tony put the mug in the microwave and set the time for two-and-a-half minutes, he could hear Bruce and Rhodey whispering in the background. He tried to catch what they were saying, but he couldn't hear over the hum of the microwave, but thank god for mouthy little kids that didn't know when they weren't supposed to say anything.

"Papa's always like that!" she said like they should know better. "He's the one tha' feeds us 'n' makes sure we gots stuff. Right, Papa? You're Daddy's little homemaker. That's what you say."

Rhodey began to choke on something, and as Bruce thumped him on the back a couple times, Tony thinned his lips into a flat line and pulled the waffle off the iron before he set it down in front of Bruce.

"That's right," he said with a false sense of pride. He had to believe alternate-universe him said it as a joke. He couldn't earnestly mean it, could he? Olivia seemed to think it was earnest, though, and he didn't want to rattle her small world too much just yet. "I am, and it was my choice, and I'm proud of it, and you can both kiss my…yeah."

He went back over to the iron to cook up another waffle, and as he was pouring another ladle of batter onto the cooking surface, Rhodey said, "No, man, it's fine. Not making fun of you. Hell, sounds like a pretty charmed life. You spend all day playing with your kids."

"And then you spend all night playing with the Cap," Bruce said then pointed at the waffle. "Is this vegan and gluten-free?"

"Yeah huh," he said and set the iron to cook again. "Just like that pizza you chowed down the other night. Taste it."

Bruce picked up a knife from the table and went to cut into the butter. "Is this soy?" he asked, blade poised above the pale stick of churned cream.

Tony shrugged as the microwaved beeped that it had finished warming the tea. "Taste it and see. I didn't do the buying here."

"No," Olivia said with a grumble. "_Jarbus _did."

Bruce frowned as he looked between Olivia and Tony. "They don't get along?"

Tony pulled the mug out of the microwave. "She just thinks Friday is better. It's what she's used to."

He set the hot mug down in front of Bruce's plate as Olivia pouted and muttered, "Friday _is _better. Why can't we have Friday back? An' Pepper didn't fire her, did she?"

"No, that's one employment decision I _do _get to make."

"Evidently not," Bruce muttered, and Tony and Rhodey turned their attentions to him. He looked between them and chewed his bite of waffle. "The butter," he clarified around a mouthful of food. "Tastes really good."

"Can feel your arteries hardening already, can't you?" Tony said.

But Bruce just said, "Tastes really good," again as he cut into his syrup-slathered waffle and shoved another bite in his mouth.

"So," Rhodey said and finished the last of his waffle, "what's on the agenda today for you two?"

Tony shrugged and pulled the waffle off the iron. Rhodey held up his plate, and Tony slid it onto the sticky surface then scooped up the last of the batter and poured it onto the iron's surface.

"Dunno." He directed his next statement to Olivia. "Maybe we should see about getting you some clothes, huh? And maybe some furniture to replace the stuff that, uh, disappeared."

"That man tooked it," she said and folded her arms. "I know he did."

"Well, he's gone now. We don't have to worry about him. We can shop online. JARVIS can have everything sent right to the house. We don't have to set one foot outside."

She pursed her lips, a furrow forming between her brows. "Are you sure?"

Tony grinned at her. "Positive."

"Is Jarbus gonna know how to get it here?"

"JARVIS knows a lot more than you give him credit for."

She huffed out a breath and said, "OK," almost like she was consigning herself to her fate. Bruce just laughed a little and shook his head, and Rhodey snorted a laugh and said, "She's going to be a handful in a few years."

"Few years? She already is."

"It's your own fault," Bruce said. "You and Steve are too lenient with her. You let her walk all over you."

"Eh," Tony said with a shrug. "Seems to be working out well so far. Right, short-stack?"

"Huh?"

"She knows you're talking about her," Bruce marveled and Tony grinned and winked at Olivia.

"Of course she does. I'm her papa."

~*~

"Baby, I'm just not sure that's the one you should get."

"But I _like _it, Papa."

"Yeah, right now you do. But what if you don't like it tomorrow, huh? What if you think it's yucky tomorrow? Then when it shows up, I have to tell the nice delivery men to take it back to the store because my screwy little daughter changed her mind."

Olivia giggled and pushed against Tony as she sat on his lap at the island in the kitchen later that afternoon and looked over bedroom suites on his tablet, Olivia out of the sticky band shirt and back in her little Avengers T-shirt and jeans with the colorful flowers on the pockets. "'m not screwy!"

"Oh, no? That's not what I hear," he said as he cuddled her and tickled her sides a little bit. "I hear you're a big, ol' screwball."

She squealed with laughter and pushed against him some more. "No, 'm not!" she said through her laughs. "Pwease, Papa? I like it."

He huffed and sighed and bookmarked the atrocity of the white set painted with hideously gaudy flowers. "How 'bout we put that in the 'maybe' pile, OK?"

"OK."

"OK," he said and pressed a kiss against the crown of her head as he scrolled down the webpage.

"Why don't we look for something…?"

He frowned. There was an odd crackle in the air, a weird charge like some kind of mass convergence of static electricity, and for a second, time seemed to move at half-speed. Olivia didn't seem to notice it, or if she did, she wasn't bothered by it, but Tony sat up in slight unease, and his heart almost jumped into his throat as he heard the bellow of a voice that wasn't unfamiliar to him.

"_Olivia! Olivia Louise!_"

Olivia gasped and squealed out an ecstatic "_Daddy!" _and before Tony could say anything, she scrambled off his lap and out of the kitchen toward where the bellow had come from.

"Liv— Olivia, wait!" Tony yelled and followed after, but he stopped short when he came upon the sight of a semi-bloodied, scuffed-up, and uniformed Steve Rogers scooping Olivia up into his arms, relief emanating from every pore in his body. He clutched tight to her and kissed her cheek before he pulled back and asked her, "Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?" as he ran a hand over her to search for bumps and bruises. Tony noticed the gloves he wore were brown and fingerless, which seemed an odd choice. At least the colors of his uniform, though still patriotic red, white, and blue, were more subdued and less garish than the fanboy number Agent had stuck him with.

Even if Agent's number had fit him beautifully in all the right places, much more appealing than what this current utilitarian number was doing for him. Though that ridiculous shoulder-to-waist ratio was still there. Thankfully.

"You're back, Daddy!" Olivia said before she slapped both her palms against either side of his face and turned his head from side-to-side, frowning as she did so. "You got boo-boos!"

"Don't worry, doll-baby. Daddy's fine," he said, pulling her hands away from his bloodied and bruised face. Tony only noticed then that his uniform was more disheveled than he'd seen on first glance, torn and bloodied in a few places — and was his shield magnetized to his back or something?

Olivia just pursed her lips a little. "You should make Papa kiss them away. Papa's the best at kissing boo-boos."

Cap looked like he was trying hard not to laugh, eyes shining with something that looked like fondness and emotional release. And tears, if he was being perfectly honest. "Yes, he is," he said and kissed her cheek again, the words coming out almost as a soft sigh. "Papa's the best."

She giggled a little then looked over Cap's shoulder and said a happy, "Hi, Wanda!"

Tony glanced to the side and spotted what he figured had been the temporal disturbance. He couldn't get a good look at the woman, but he saw a red-tinged portal swarming off to the side — oh, god, not now, deep breaths — and over what sounded like an alarm and destruction of some kind, an accented voice spoke a low warning of, "Steven, we don't have much time."

Cap shot a glance back at the portal before he looked over and met Tony's eyes. Tony braced himself for the usual dour seriousness, but instead, Cap broke out into a smile and said, "It's not so bad, is it?"

Tony just cocked his head, unsure of what he meant, and ignoring this 'Wanda' woman's additional warning of them not having much time, Cap crossed the floor to meet up with him just as Bruce and Rhodey exited from the elevator, Rhodey evidently back from his lunch date and

Bruce probably alerted to the disturbance by JARVIS. Tony steeled himself for…something… especially considering how Cap's jaw was set in a firm line, but to his everlasting shock, Cap just reached up and grasped him by the back of the head before he leaned down and crushed their mouths together, showing no mercy as, tasting of peppermint schnapps of all things, he all but plundered Tony's mouth with the most bruising, passionate kiss he'd ever experienced.

Tony was left gasping for breath, his knees embarrassingly gone weak, by the time Cap pulled away, hand still at the back of his head, his fingers stroking the nape of his neck in a fashion that was both soothing and titillating. While Olivia wrinkled her nose and grumbled at what she'd just seen — kissing boo-boos was OK but _kissing_-kissing was just gross — Cap met his eyes and, with the woman from the other side of the portal warning him yet again, said, "I always wanted to learn how to dance. Teach me how to dance."

Tony was startled out of his stupor enough to say, "Wait, what— _Now_?"

But Cap just smiled, a soft, almost intimate kind of smile that he'd never once before directed at Tony. In fact, Tony didn't think he'd ever seen Cap direct that kind of smile at _anyone _— past or present. And he'd examined the photographs enough to know.

"You'll know when," he said and dropped his hand away. Tony silently lamented the loss of contact.

"Steven, _now!_" came the voice again, and suddenly—

There it was. The look. The look he'd seen come over Olivia's face several times over the course of the past couple days. That narrowed-eyed, brow-furrowing frown.

"It's you," he said before he could stop himself, and Cap turned his attention back from the woman to Tony. "You... It's your expression that I kept seeing on her face. How...? How is that possible? She's my daughter, isn't she?"

Cap's face softened, and his lips twitched a little as he seemingly contemplated his response. "Yeah," he said, his tone annoyingly enigmatic. "She is."

"But how can she look like you, too?"

His smile broadened, and there was a mischievous twinkle in his gorgeous blue eyes as he said an even more enigmatic, "Magic," if that was even possible.

"_Magic?_" he sputtered, but Cap just shrugged a little.

"You'll see," was all he said before he leaned down, pecked another quick kiss against Tony's lips, murmured something that sounded an awful lot like 'I love you,' and then dashed back off to the portal, answering Olivia's queries about what they were doing with, "We're going home, doll-baby."

"But we _are _home!" Olivia insisted, and Cap just laughed and said, "No, we're not."

He glanced back, met Tony's gaze again, and said with so much love and hope in his voice that Tony almost begged him to take him with him, "Not yet."

"Is Papa comin' with us?"

Cap held Tony's gaze for just a moment longer before he turned to Olivia and said, "Tell you what. I bet if you close your eyes, the next time you open them, Papa'll be standing right there with us."

"_Steven!_" that Wanda woman urged, but Cap didn't move, and Tony watched as Olivia shot a sad and nervous glance over to him then looked back at the Cap.

"Really?"

Cap just pressed his forehead to hers. "Promise."

"OK," she said and closed her eyes, and the Cap shot one more look in Tony's direction — a warm smile that almost said Tony had no idea what was in store for him—

And then, in a flash, he was through the portal and gone, and the strange hum of energy and vibration was gone along with the delightful little chirps of the unconditional love Tony had quickly grown accustomed to over the last forty-eight hours. He stood, staring, at where the portal had been just moments before, waiting for it to open back up again, waiting for Olivia to come dashing through—

Waiting for the Cap to come back and kiss the life out of him again.

Bruce and Rhodey approached slowly, almost as though they were afraid of spooking him, and Tony tore his gaze away from where the portal had been and looked between his two friends, neither of which was doing a very good job of hiding his complete confusion at what had just transpired. Rhodey was the first one to finally speak, glancing around the empty living area and saying, "Well, you don't see that every day."

Bruce nodded his agreement before he frowned and put a hand to Tony's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tony. You all right?"

Tony jerked a half-smile at him before shrugging. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

Bruce and Rhodey exchanged glances before they turned their attention back to him.

"Because you've never fallen for anyone as quickly as you did for that little girl," Rhodey replied, his concern matching Bruce's. "And your definitely-not-alternate-universe future husband just waltzed right out of here with her."

But he just shrugged again. "No big deal. It's for the best, anyway. I mean, should anyone really trust me with kids?"

"I'm guessing the Captain America we just saw does."

Tony sniffed in annoyance and went over toward the elevator, bypassing the scattered pile of drawings on the coffee table.

"That's it?" Bruce called after him.

"That's what?" he asked and waited for JARVIS to open the doors.

"Everything that just happened over the last two days, and you're just shrugging your shoulders and saying it's no big deal?"

"What do you want me to say?" he asked and continued to wait for the doors to open. Damn it, what the hell was JARVIS waiting for? He scowled at his temperamental AI and turned back to Bruce and Rhodey. "Look, she was cute, and yeah, it's kind of…nice having someone that thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread, but we all knew this was nothing more than what it was. It wasn't permanent. It was never going to last. I knew that. You knew that. We all knew that." He turned back to the elevator and jammed his finger against the button several times.

"Tony," Rhodey said, gentle, not without fondness, "if you actually wanted it…I think you might have a chance to get it."

Tony just snorted out a laugh. What the hell was JARVIS doing?

"I'm serious, man. Captain America just told you how to hit on him. He gave you explicit instructions for how to hit on him. I think he, at least, is under the impression that this isn't an alternate universe."

"Doesn't mean he's right," Tony muttered before he turned back to them. "And why in the hell do you think I'd actually _want _to deal with Captain Tight-ass the rest of my life?"

"I don't know," Rhodey said. "Maybe the way your knees practically gave out on you when he laid one smack on you."

Tony folded his arms tight against his chest. "Clearly the man has kissed once or twice in his life."

"Or maybe the way you went all googly-eyed when he pulled away," Bruce added.

"Again, _clearly _the man has kissed once or twice in his life."

"Or how you stood there for a full minute waiting for them to come back," Rhodey said.

"Olivia," he countered. "I was waiting for my daughter to come back, not Captain Anachronism."

He unfolded his arms and jammed his finger against the button again, and Rhodey said, "You looked like you were ready to give him the world, Tones. He told you to teach him how to dance. If he had said right then and there, you would have dropped everything and done it for him."

He groaned and banged his fist against the panel. Whose side was JARVIS even on, huh?

"Maybe I'm just a nice guy. You ever think of that?" he asked and turned back to them. "I'd do it for either of you."

Rhodey put his hands up in defense. "I already know how to dance, man."

Tony turned his attention to Bruce, who laughed and said, "Thanks, but I'd kind of get the suspicion I wasn't the one you wanted in your arms."

"Whatever," he muttered as the doors finally slid open and he stepped into the car.

"If you want it, it's yours for the taking," Rhodey said. "Don't be that guy, Tony. Don't let your pride sabotage something that clearly makes you happy."

He snorted in derision as the doors slid shut. "Workshop, J," he said and waited for the car to arrive at the designated floor.

He saw the blanket and pillow from where Olivia had slept on the couch in there as soon as he walked in the door, and he stopped and frowned at it a moment, something painful tugging at his heart. He waited a moment, expecting to hear a chirped, "Papa!" before a little ball of fire rushed into the room, but there was nothing aside from the hum of machinery and motors and servos, and he shook his head and scoffed a bit and went over to his workstation.

He sat down at the computer and logged in, and he tried to read the specs that were on the screen for the Mark…XVI? Is that what it was? But the screen was blurry, and he kept blinking and trying to read what was there, but the blinking wasn't doing much to help him. It was only when he felt wetness on his cheeks that he realized what was happening to him, and he reached up and brushed the stray, stubborn tears away and said, "Not one word about this to anyone, J. Understand?"

"_Of course, Sir. Though might I suggest talking about what happened? That is often considered to be the best way of dealing with such life-changing situations._"

He shook his head and swiped at the screen. "Nothing to talk about, J. Little blip on the radar. Doesn't change anything. I didn't actually order anything for her, did I?" He didn't wait for JARVIS to respond before he added, "Cancel it. Whatever I ordered, cancel it. It's not worth it. She's gone, she's not coming back, end of story."

He exhaled a heavy breath and sat back in his chair, and he tried not to think about how the last time he'd sat in that chair, a little firecracker had tugged on his hand and begged him for waffles. Or how two days ago the only long-term relationship he'd ever let himself fall into had blown up in his face. He tried not to think about anything.

Instead, he opened up a new file and began a new armor project and told himself the last two days had never happened.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

It was a week later — a week of being sequestered in his workshop as he ignored everything and everyone and busied himself with his myriad of projects — when the Cap and the Spy Twins arrived back from whatever godforsaken locale they'd been assigned to.

Not that this was enough to pull him away from his work. Even Bruce couldn't get him to make headway to his lab, and he blatantly ignored Bruce's concerned, "_Tony, you can't just pretend like nothing happened. You have to allow yourself to mourn what you lost, no matter how short a time you had it._"

The hell he couldn't pretend. He was doing a bang-up job of it so far, and why the fuck should he have to mourn it? He'd only had it for two days, yeah, but it wasn't like he was something he actually wanted _anyway_. Who wanted to be tied down to Captain Anachronism for the rest of their life and dealing with his brats? Not him, that was for sure! No siree. It didn't matter how adorable and precocious Olivia was, and it didn't matter how fucking fantastic a kisser the Cap was. That was life best left to some other Tony Stark that was stupid enough or desperate enough for it.

Nope. Wasn't the life he wanted at all.

He figured if he told himself that enough times, he'd start to believe it. So far as Bruce and Rhodey knew, it was the god's honest truth. As for himself…

It was a work in progress.

He was so into the design for the Mark… Shit, what was he up to now? XVII? Anyway, he was so into going over the design specs for the suit that he didn't even hear the Cap appear in the workshop until JARVIS had the temerity to turn down his music and announce the old man's presence. He saw the Cap had a bag of burgers with him that he held up — almost like a peace offering — and Tony bid him welcome and allowed him into the sanctuary.

Only because of the burgers. Not because there was a part of him that thought…

So, they sat and chatted amiably about a host of topics as they stuffed their faces with greasy-but-delectable chow, and Tony wiped his mouth off with a paper napkin then threw it on the table and said, "So, how's the future coming along for you?"

The Cap just balled up the paper wrapper his fourth burger had come in and tossed it into the pile with the others. "It's… It's coming," he said with a somewhat uneasy shrug.

"Maybe you needed more time away to 'find yourself'?" he suggested, but the Cap shook his head.

"I'm not one for… I think they call it 'soul searching'?"

Tony shrugged and nodded his agreement with the term as he took the last bite of his burger.

"Not like that, anyway. Feels like… Feels like I'm not doing anything. Like I'm wasting time or I'm being useless or something."

Tony just snorted a slight laugh. "Look, Cap, if there's one person on this planet that's allowed to dick around for an unspecified amount of time to 'find himself,' I think it's the poor schmuck that got pulled out of the ice that was his tomb for seventy years. Fuck, you think I'd be adjusting any better if someone threw me seventy years into the future? Or worse — seventy years into the past? I know I like to tout myself as a futurist, but I'm pretty much useless without Pep or Rhodey there to kick my ass. If I lost them…"

He didn't believe that he'd lost Pepper. They'd be OK. Maybe things were rocky now, but they'd be OK. They'd get through this. They were never meant to be more than friends, anyway.

"Yeah," the Cap finally said, "but I still feel like… I don't know," he said with a disheartened shrug. "Like I'm not doing my part."

Tony inhaled and exhaled a breath through his nose as he watched the Cap tear at some paper napkins, slowly and methodically and in even pieces. There was something dark about that action, something that spoke to Tony about anger and control issues, and could he blame the guy? His entire life had been taken away from him, and he'd been forced into this other life he'd never asked for.

"I think you've done your part, don't you? You took down Hydra, took out the Red Skull, saved the world. That's enough for _three _lifetimes of 'doing your part,' never mind one. Besides, you're a thousand. It's high time for you to sit back and rest on your laurels and let us young whippersnappers save the world in your stead."

Cap didn't say anything to that, just continued to tear at the napkin, and Tony watched him a few moments before he grabbed a tablet and a stylus and began to work out some more specs for the Mark… It had to be the Mark XVII, right? Wait, already? How many had he gone through in a month?

"What else am I going to do?" the Cap asked quietly, and Tony stopped what he was doing to look up at him. The Cap didn't meet his eyes, preferring to concentrate on his task of ripping the napkin, and Tony set the tablet down and remembered back to the Cap's quiet admission of not being able to sleep when he'd 'accidentally' dialed him. He wondered how in the world SHIELD had ever cleared the guy for active duty.

Because if he didn't know better, he'd say the guy was grappling with some undiagnosed depression or PTSD or something.

"Well," he said and sat back a little in his chair. "What would you have done had there not been a war?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"What do you _like _doing?"

"Dunno."

Yeah, definitely something going on here he'd somehow been able to keep from SHIELD.

"I thought you were into art? Didn't you go to art school?"

He scoffed and dropped the napkin. "Yeah, but it's hard to make a living off of that. There's a reason they're called 'starving artists.'"

"Well, you're not wrong. But, look, you don't have to _make _art, necessarily. You could teach it."

"Teach it?" he asked and looked at Tony like the idea had never occurred to him.

"Sure! And hell, you're Captain America! That pretty much guarantees you to be the greatest teacher even known to mankind."

"I'm a soldier, Tony, not a teacher. I follow orders, I don't give them. Well, I mean, I guess within reason, I do, but—"

"Do you?" Tony asked with a laugh, and Cap turned surprised eyes on him. "Follow orders, I mean. I've heard stories about you, Cap, and I've seen things with my own eyes. You pay lip service to following orders, but you march to the beat of your own drummer. _Not _that I think there's anything wrong with that. I trust Captain America more than I trust most of those other assclowns."

The Cap just smiled at him, somewhat bemused and a little confused. "Thanks?"

"Don't mention it," he said and picked up his tablet again to go back to working on… You know what? It didn't fucking matter. JARVIS would know which suit it was, and he'd ask him later when he actually gave a shit.

But he didn't stay working on it long. Instead, he found his gaze drifting over to the Cap, who was staring down at one of the napkins that he hadn't torn up, and Tony saw he'd gotten his hands on a pen and was busy sketching something on it. He watched him a few moments, first the sketch, which was too abstract for him to make out at the angle he was sitting at, before he glanced up to Steve's face and followed the line of his profile — his forehead, his strong nose, his full lips — and then over the side of his face — his firm jaw, his cheekbones, and those ridiculously long eyelashes that would be the envy of anyone.

Look, the Cap was a good-looking guy. He'd always known that. But now… It was different now. Yes, he was handsome, but… There was another plane of time and space out there where this man sitting beside him was his husband, where they had children, where they evidently were crazy in love with each other.

He wasn't thinking about it only because of what had happened over a week ago. Truth be told, yes, there was a teeny, tiny part of him that had been enamored with the sanctimonious son-of-a- bitch from the start and only wanted the bastard to _like _him — not necessarily as a lover but as a person in general. He could take lusting after the Captain from afar so long as that's all it was and he knew and understood there was no chance of it ever progressing beyond that.

But—

But…

But thinking about anything like that was a bad, bad idea. Not just because that was an alternate universe, and the Cap in this 'verse was as straight as an arrow, but because he'd just gotten out of a serious relationship, and only an idiot would jump headfirst — even in his own mind — into another one so soon after the fact.

Again, it wasn't like there was ever a chance of it happening. It couldn't happen, could it? Wait… much as he loved her, 'Olivia' was an old-lady name, right? So, chances were that the Cap had picked out that name for their little chatterbox sprog, right?

Only one way to find out.

He cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Cap, you mind if I ask you a question?"

Cap glanced up from his sketch and set his pen down to give Tony his undivided attention. "No, go ahead."

Tony toyed with the stylus in his hand. "Just, I guess as a hypothetical, say you were ever at some point in your life to have a daughter, what would you name her?"

Cap winced a little, not in hurt but surprise and maybe even a little confusion. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just curious."

Cap closed his mouth and nodded some, and Tony swore he saw a slight rose tinge come over the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks, like he was embarrassed but was trying to hide it.

"Uh," he said after a moment, drawing out the word, "well, I guess, I mean I always figured that, if I were ever lucky enough to have a kid—" He forced out a laugh and scratched at his forehead. "Not that I ever really thought I would—"

"Why not?"

He folded his arms tight across his chest and shrugged. "I don't know. Just…never thought it was in the cards for me, that's all. I mean, I _liked_… I used to think…"

"Look, I know I come off as a giant ass—"

"You're not a giant ass," Cap said with a shake of his head and a firm tone in his voice. "You're a bit of an ass, but you're not a giant one," he added with just a hint of a smile.

Tony matched his hint of a smile. "Look, what I meant to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that I know I can be an ass, but I'm just… I'm not looking to sell you out here. I'm just curious."

Cap's lips thinned into a flat smile, one that didn't meet his eyes. And Tony could say that now because he'd seen what a Cap whose smile met his eyes looked like, and it didn't look anything like this sad specimen before him.

"Look, if it's something that's too personal, we don't have to—"

"Sarah," Cap said before he could finish his thought. "After my mother. Always liked to think, if I ever had a daughter, I'd name her after my mother."

Not 'Olivia,' but 'Sarah.' He swallowed and tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Evidently, it was an alternate universe after all. He'd known that, but still… He could admit there was a part of him that dared to hope.

"You?" Cap asked.

"Maria," he replied, his voice thicker with emotion than he'd intended, and Cap nodded his understanding. "My mother was—"

"I figured as much," Cap said. "I'm sorry. About what happened to your parents. No one deserves to die like that."

Tony startled a bit, not really sure how to respond. It had been just over twenty years, and it wasn't like he and Howard had been on the best of terms _anyway_, but it still… There was a certain sting about it that would never go away. He usually tried not to think about his mother if only because that pain would always be much rawer. He'd actually loved his mother.

"You, too," he finally said because he suddenly remembered the Cap had been orphaned at a young age as well.

Cap frowned at him a bit, like he was perplexed. "Thanks?" he said, confused. "I mean your…your parents. They, uh…"

Cap swallowed and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "My dad, uh, died in the war. Never met him. Really only knew what my ma told me about. Ma, well…"

"Did she suffer? Long, I mean?"

He blew out a breath. "Uh," he said and tightened his arms some, "I don't, um… I didn't actually know — she didn't let me know — until it had gotten so bad she couldn't hide it from me any longer. She didn't, um…"

"Yeah," Tony said, understanding what the Cap couldn't seem to vocalize.

Cap just sat there a moment, arms still folded, before he said, "Is there something that's brought this on? Is Miss Potts—"

"What? _No!_" he said, more emphatically than he should have, especially judging by Cap's surprised wince away from him. "No," he said, calmer now, "it's just… Miss Potts and I are no longer…"

Cap merely nodded, and Tony thought not for the first time about how easily they seemed to understand each other. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment.

"You seemed very happy with each other."

"Yeah," he muttered, "it did seem that way, didn't it?"

"You weren't?" he asked, evidently picking up on Tony's hesitance.

Tony shrugged and continued to toy with the stylus. "I love Pep, don't get me wrong. I just… I'm not sure we were ever meant to be anything more than friends. I think we tried to force something that wasn't meant to be."

"Well, I'm still sorry to hear that," Cap said, and Tony snorted a laugh.

"Hey, not your fault. Don't worry about it. Shit happens. We'll manage. You sticking around? We giving this Avengers-thing a shot?"

Cap just blinked at the whiplash-inducing change of subject. "Uh…" he said and reached up to scratch at the back of his head. "Yeah, I mean, it worked out well, I think. We work well as a team. Not sure how often we'll be needed—"

"More than you might think," Tony muttered, and Cap smiled at him a little.

"What? Can you see into the future?"

Tony considered this before he shook his head a little and said, "No, just a feeling."

Cap simply nodded and scuffed one booted foot against the floor. "You know, you never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"About why you're asking me what I'd name my daughter."

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. Bonding-thing, I guess. You seem like the type of guy to want the wife and two-point-five kids and dog and house with little white fence."

Cap flashed a brief, tight smile at him but didn't say anything to that and instead asked, "Is that the issue?"

"Huh?"

"With Miss Potts? Is that what happened?"

"What? That I want kids and Pep doesn't? Or that Pep wants kids but I don't?"

Cap smiled a little, and Tony tilted his head in thought as he realized it bore some of the hallmarks of that small, intimate one that that other Steve Rogers had given him.

"Given the fact that you know what you would name your daughter, I'm going to have to assume it was Miss Potts that doesn't want a family. Not you."

Tony exhaled a heavy, sad breath. "Tell you the truth, Cap, until a week ago, I hadn't really given it any thought."

"What changed?"

He snorted a laugh. "You wouldn't believe it."

Cap just raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Try me."

Tony just stared at him and chewed on his lip a little in thought — totally not tying to be a come- on at all; seriously — before he nodded his head once and set the stylus down on the table.

"Wormhole opened up in my lab a week ago," he began and folded his arms.

"Is that what happened?" Steve asked like he had finally gotten the answer to a question he'd long had, and Tony startled back a bit.

"Someone tell you?"

"Doctor Bann— uh, _Bruce_. Bruce said something about something strange happening while Natasha and Clint and I were gone but you had it under control and it was nothing to worry about. I just assumed there was an incident with the Hulk or something."

Tony scoffed. "Yeah," he said and twisted back-and-forth on his chair some, "that would have made more sense. No, this, ah, wormhole opened up and, um—" he grimaced a bit, "—my, uh, _daughter _from an alternate universe showed up."

This time, the Cap was the one to startle back. "Your _daughter?_"

"Yeah."

"So, that was—? When I was on the phone with—? How do you know?"

He shrugged some. "Well, mostly because she _said _she was my daughter and she stomped around here like she owned the damned place. I couldn't wait to get her back to wherever she'd come from at first. By the end, I didn't want her to leave."

"But you had to send her back."

He snorted a laugh. "You fucking kidding me? I wouldn't even know where to _begin _to figure that out. No," he said and exhaled a sigh, "her alternate-universe— Uh… _Someone _from that 'verse was able to cross time and space to grab her," he explained, figuring telling the Cap that they were evidently married and the parents of two daughters in another universe would be too much for the old man to handle.

Old man.

Maybe there were some similarities between the 'verses?

"Are you sure it was safe?" the Cap asked, concern etched over his face, jaw set, and crease formed between his brows, and Tony startled at the now-familiar expression.

Had Olivia only learned it from him or was it some kind of 'magic' as that Cap had said? "You mean who I let her go back with?"

"Yeah."

Well, maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world to explain just a little bit? After all, it was an alternate universe, so who cared?

He grinned, unable to help himself. "Well, if you can't trust Captain America to rescue your kid across the time-space continuum, I don't know who you can."

"_Me?_" Steve asked, looking equal parts surprised and, if he was reading him right, pleased.

"Well, an alternate-universe version of you, anyway. I'm pretty sure I made the right call. I mean, yeah, maybe I would have preferred her to stay, but I'm not sure a mouthy four-year-old would fit in with a bunch of superheroes. Not safely, anyway."

Though it seemed a damned sight safer than whatever clusterfuck that other Cap had taken her back to. The blood on that uniform had been a little too fresh, now that he thought about it, and the noises in the background of that wormhole-thing hadn't been the most…comforting of sorts.

"I'm sorry I missed that. Kinda would have liked to meet an alternate universe version of myself."

"Really? That's not too, uh, _weird _for you?"

Cap just shot him a flat look. "No, you're right. The Hydra weapons from the war, the Red Skull, the Tesseract, waking up seventy years in the future, Loki, the Chitauri… That makes sense. Nothing strange about any of that. Meeting an alternate universe version of myself?" He exhaled a heavy breath. "Yeah, don't know if I'd be able to handle that. Might be just a little much for this old soldier to take."

Tony just stared at him and blinked, a stupid and unsure smile on his face. "You're trolling me, aren't you?"

Cap scoffed. "What? _Me? _No!" he said and waved him off. "I'd never troll anybody. I'm Captain America."

"You _know _the definition of 'troll'?"

The Cap just grinned at him. "I've had a primer on twenty-first century customs and expressions."

"Barton and Romanoff gave you a crash course in it, didn't they?"

He shrugged. "I guess they helped, sure. I know you think I'm old, Tony, but I'm not _that _set in my ways."

Tony scratched at his jaw. "Yeah, well, wasn't sure how well our hedonistic new millennium sensibilities would mesh with your old-fashioned 1940s Norman Rockwell values. You're not yelling at us to repent our ungodly ways, though, so I guess that's a good sign."

Cap just blinked at him, smiling oddly like he wasn't quite sure what to make of what Tony had said. "You know," he said, sounding a little distant, like he was more musing his thoughts aloud rather than having an actual discussion, "everyone has this idea in their minds of who or what I am. Some people think I'm a useless relic. Some think I'm some goody-two-shoes that never did a bad thing or had an impure thought in his life. Some think I'm some great hero to be worshipped or idealized." He shrugged. "I'm not any of that — _well_, maybe the 'useless relic' part I am—"

"Cap—"

But the Cap just continued.

"I'm just a kid from Brooklyn that wanted to do the right thing. That's all. You ask anyone that knew me then, before all this—" he motioned over himself; Tony presumed he meant the very fit body, "—they'd tell you I was a snot-nosed punk that didn't know when to back down from a fight, that I had something to prove. I'm not a saint. Far from it."

He snorted a laugh and stopped talking a moment, as though he was trying to figure out the right words for what he wanted to say.

"Don't believe everything you read in the history books, Tony," he finally appeared to settle on. "It's not always as true as you might think."

"You trying to tell me something?"

"Not particularly, I don't think." But he leveled him with a pointed look and said, "You can think I'm a useless relic. That's your prerogative, and honestly, you might not be entirely wrong—"

"Steve, you're not a useless relic—"

"—but don't think I'm some goody-two-shoes choir boy that never did a bad thing in his life," the Cap said, steamrolling right over his words and evidently not even hearing that Tony had used his actual, given name for the first time in their relatively short acquaintance. "I was a poor kid from Brooklyn. We never had that much money even before the Depression. Sometimes, you had to do what you had to do in order to get by, if you get my drift."

Tony just swallowed and nodded, unsure of how to respond properly to that. "Duly noted," he said and tweaked a smile.

"I'm sorry about your daughter, though. Seems like… Seems like you two kind of hit it off. That was her chirping in the background — when I was on the phone with you, I mean — wasn't it?"

"Yeah," he said, and no, his voice totally didn't crack on that word, but if the Cap heard it, he ignored it.

"Sounds like she absolutely adores you, her, ah, _daddy_, I think I heard her say."

Tony stared straight at him, unblinking. "Yeah," he said again. "She loves her daddy."

Cap smiled at him, again that soft, intimate one he'd only seen for the first time last week. "And it sounds like her daddy might have come to adore her as well?"

He thought then about the overwhelming relief he'd seen on that other Cap's face, the way he'd clung to Olivia and cradled her tight and kissed her and promised her all her fears were for naught. Yes, her papa adored her, but he could definitely say Olivia's daddy adored her, too.

Of course, Cap didn't need to know about that technicality.

"Eh," he said with a shrug and scratched at the back of his head. "You know, she was a kid. I mean, it's hard to _dislike _them — well, unless you're Howard."

Cap nodded. "Director Fury told me you and Howard didn't have the best relationship."

Tony snorted a laugh. Talk about an understatement.

"We didn't have a _relationship_. Period," he said. "And don't listen to anything Fury says about Howard loving me deep-down or whatever bullshit he comes up with in his super-secret spy cave. Howard had no use for me from the day I was born except to figure out a way to synthesize a new element."

He tapped at the arc reactor, but he didn't know if he did it intentionally or not.

"For him, that's the only thing I was good for. A science project. I know Howard was your BFF from the war—"

"I wouldn't say _that_—"

"You know what a BFF is?"

"I've had the concept explained to me. I told you, Tony, I might be old, but I'm not _that _set in my ways."

Tony shrugged. "Well, whatever. Point is, I know Howard's your bro, but I can't see him as anything other than that guy that provided half my DNA but didn't give a shit about me otherwise, so don't expect me to tell you any great stories about how wonderful a guy he was or how much I loved him or how lucky I am to have him as a father. I mean, yeah, I'm lucky, but only because the guy was fucking loaded, and I got a much better start in life — from an economic standpoint — than, well, _you _ever did."

He stopped talking, suddenly realizing what an asshole he sounded like. Cap hadn't even been the one to bring up Howard. Come to think of it, Cap almost never mentioned him. Only once in the time they'd known each other, and even then, only in passing.

But the Cap just nodded a little, like he was absorbing Tony's words, before he said, "What was her name? Your daughter, I mean."

"Olivia," Tony said without thinking. He tilted his head in a little bit of confusion as the Cap startled and stared at Tony either like he'd seen a ghost or like he was trying to make sure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard. But then he blinked and shook his head, almost as though he was trying to clear his thoughts of something.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," Cap said, but Tony could tell his thoughts were still somewhere else, "just, uh, thinking about a dream I had once. I think it was a dream, anyway. It's not anything… Um… You mind if I ask you a question?"

Tony shook his head. "Shoot."

Cap paused a moment and grimaced, like he'd suddenly thought better of what he'd wanted to ask. "Nah," he said and rubbed the back of his neck, "maybe I don't want to know."

"You had a family, too," Tony said, and the Cap looked up like he couldn't believe had so easily read his mind. He blinked, his face drawn in wonder and…

Disappointment?

"A family," he said, a little flat and a little despondent. "Just a… Not with y—? She wasn't o— I mean, obviously. It was just a stupid dre—" He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head again. "She tell you that?" he asked when he'd finally gotten a hold of himself.

"Yeah."

He nodded a little, but Tony wouldn't exactly say he looked happy. More like he'd accepted whatever had been told to him. Which was kind of strange, to be honest. He figured the Cap would have wanted to hear that he had a family in that alternate or future or future alternate or whatever it was.

"So…we're friends?" Cap said like he was trying to find a silver lining for some gray loud that had come over him. "I mean, beyond you evidently sending me through a hole into an alternate universe past to rescue her, that is."

Tony twitched his mouth, trying to keep himself from smiling. "Yeah," he said, thinking back to the way the other Steve Rogers had run soothing fingertips against the nape of his neck, "I guess you could say that."

And suddenly, the Cap frowned. "Tony, whatever you think, I don't… I don't _hate _you—"

But Tony waved off his concern before he could say anything more. "Water under the bridge, Cap. Don't even worry—"

"Steve."

Tony stopped mid-thought. "Sorry?"

But the Cap just shoved his hands in his pockets, and he smiled lazily and said, "Call me 'Steve.' Unless you'd like me to start calling you 'Mr. Stark'?"

"Ugh," Tony said and rolled his eyes. "Don't even joke about that. But…'Steve'? You sure?"

Cap— _Steve _just nodded. "Wouldn't have asked you if I didn't want you to. You said we're friends, right? In this alternate universe, anyway?"

He thought back to what Olivia had said about what that other him called that other Steve. 'Honey.' 'Babe.' Funny that when it was just they two, when the ills and pressures of the world were a thousand miles away, and it was just they two caught up in quiet discussion in a workshop, well…

Maybe even his Cap wasn't the giant, sanctimonious ass he'd taken him to be. "Yeah," he said, "we are."

"Maybe we could try that here?" Steve said with a shrug, a somewhat hopeful tone in his voice. Tony met his eyes, and he smiled a little in return.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," he mused as Steve's phone buzzed, and he watched as Steve sat up, pulled it out of his pocket, looked at it, then frowned and sighed a little.

"Duty calls," he said and glanced back up to meet Tony's gaze, and he again forced a smile that didn't meet his eyes as he held up his phone as though to show Tony his plans had suddenly changed and he totally wasn't just flaking on their 'bonding' time.

And was it his imagination, or did Steve seem a bit disappointed by this turn of events?

"Table this discussion for later?" Steve said, and Tony nodded and said, "Sure thing."

Steve nodded as well, and as he got up to leave, Tony called out, "You know, if we're serious about doing this Avengers-thing, maybe you might want to rethink being Fury's lapdog."

"Not his lapdog," Steve said, hand poised to open the door to the workshop. He turned back to Tony and threw him a sardonic little smile that probably would have gone over the heads of anyone that didn't realize what a little shit Captain America could really be.

"I'm his janitor."

Tony didn't know if it was a cry for help, but he didn't see any harm in taking it that way. "Whatever he's paying you, I'll pay double."

Steve laughed — an honest and true laugh — and he shook his head some before he met Tony's eyes again, his smile much lighter and truer than the last one had been.

"Watch what you say there, Stark. I might take you up on that one of these days."

"Yeah, well, just so you know," he all but drawled, the words coming out much huskier than he'd intended, "I make an investment like that, I fully expect to get my money's worth."

In all honesty, Tony hadn't meant for it to sound so…tawdry. He hadn't meant for it to come out like a come-on. And any hope that it had gone over what he had heretofore taken for the naïve Captain's head went straight out the window as he watched the good Captain run his gaze over the length of Tony's body then fist his hands at his sides and swallow. He probably didn't even realize he'd done these things.

But Steve was able to gain control of himself again, and he nodded his head a little and said a quiet, "Understood," before he let himself out of the workshop, the door swinging shut slowly and quietly behind him.

Tony watched him make his way over to the elevator, and not until Steve was on it and the doors were closed behind him did he exhale the breath he'd been holding and lean over the worktable, head in his hands.

"I just fucked that all up at the end, didn't I, J?"

"_If it is any consolation to you, Sir, I detected a heightened pulse rate from the Captain after you made your rather provocative statement about expecting to get your money's worth for employing his services_."

"Make it sound like I want to hire him as a prostitute."

"_It has been said in the past that marriage is a form of legalized prostitution_."

Tony wished he'd been drinking something at that precise moment. It was ripe for a spit-take.

"Incidentally, J, I think we should refrain from in any way, shape, or form informing the Captain that his family in that alternate universe was, well, me. Not sure he'd be open to it. Heightened pulse could also mean he recognized I was making a pass at him — which, honestly, I wasn't intending to do; it just sort of happened — and was, well, not entirely receptive to it."

"_His breathing pattern was also seen to become elevated as well_."

"Again, J, we're talking a straight guy from the forties here. Probably wasn't too thrilled with me making a pass at him. Let's just keep that between you, me, Brucie, and Rhodey, savvy?"

"_If you believe that to be the best course of action, Sir_."

Tony winced a little bit at the slightly disapproving tone his AI had taken with him, and he let his gaze shift over to the space where a little ball of fire had come into his life a week earlier.

It wasn't his life. It wasn't his universe, no matter what that other Cap had said to him, and no matter what Rhodey and Bruce said. Certain things just weren't matching up (No arc reactor? How was that even—?), and there was no sense in hoping for something that would never come to pass. He would always have the memories of his two days as a father, and he would always, _always _have the memory of a hot, searing kiss given to him by none other than Captain America himself. Maybe it wasn't meant for _him_, but that didn't mean he couldn't secretly cherish it 'til the end of his days.

"I do."


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

_~*Three Months Later …*~_

Tony had a feeling about today.

It was one of those weird feelings you got, like you knew the choice you were about to make was going to alter the course of your life. Like thirty years down the road, you'd be able to look back at this moment and say _this _had been it. This had been the defining moment in time, where you'd come to a fork in the road and had had to make a choice, and that choice — that one choice — had led you down this path to where you were today.

Pepper, who was cordial and sometimes even downright friendly to him, had reminded him of the Foundation's commitments to the annual charity ball that was in a week, and she stressed the importance of having the rest of the Avengers attend with him because the powers that be wanted to hobnob with the new superhero elite, and Tony detected only the tiniest amount of bitterness in her voice when mention of his team of misfits was made.

Progress, at any rate.

He reminded Bruce when he saw him in the kitchen while he was stealing coffee and a bagel (Tony was stealing; Bruce was sitting and eating something he thought came out of a box labeled 'Kashi'). Bruce made a face and said he would probably be coming down with the flu that night. Barton, who was coming into the kitchen just as he was making his way out, hedged a bit and said he'd _try _to swing it but it depended on how busy he was.

He was a frickin' spy not some rich playboy.

Romanoff just shrugged like it was par for the course and she'd attend out of her obligation to the team. Thor was most delighted and wished to know if he would be able to bring his fairest Jane.

"And I believe her friend, Darcy, would very much wish to attend as well."

Tony just paused, mid-sip of coffee, and said, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Just tell me how many tickets you need, Mad Max."

Thor was quite confused by Tony's name for him, which, yeah, wasn't his best, but whatever. He hadn't had his coffee yet.

Steve had been on his run when he'd seen everyone else, and so he'd gone down to his lab to play with the toys he was building for his new comrades and had gotten pretty lost and distracted in the whole endeavor, forgetting that he needed to remind Steve that he was going to have to put on the dancing monkey routine again. It was something that he'd confessed to Tony one night when it was just they two, a bottle of peach schnapps (don't judge; it was the only thing left in the bar), and a bonding session that had started out forced and had ended with them commiserating over their mutual experience of being thrust into a limelight that neither one really craved. Just because Tony was a natural at it didn't mean he loved it. He was just good at it because he'd been trained to be good at it from a young age. Steve had had a crash course in it during the war. It was something only they and they alone could understand. Barton and Romanoff were spies and, as such, were sheltered from it; Thor was a prince of some far away land, but Tony had the suspicion that his exposure to that limelight wasn't anything similar to what was seen on Earth; Bruce shied away from it. Only he and Steve had ever really known the limelight, the press, and the soul- crushing that went along with it.

And he knew Steve would be loath to attend the ball, no matter how charitable the cause.

But Captain America was as big a draw in 2012 as he'd been in 1943, and he was expected to show his face even for just a few minutes.

Still, Tony forgot about the whole endeavor until Steve showed up that afternoon while he was sketching ideas for some sort of stretchy pants that Bruce could wear that would grow and shrink with him as needed. They exchanged pleasantries with each other, and DUM-E zoomed over to Steve once Steve produced the little bouncy ball he had hidden behind his back, and Steve said 'hello' to him, patted his arm, and then threw the ball in the opposite direction of anything valuable. DUM-E zoomed after it, beeping and whirring with delight, and Tony twitched his mouth and pursed his lips and said, "You're just giving him exactly what he wants."

"What, attention?" Steve asked, smiling. Steve didn't smile much, Tony noticed, and it was always nice to see it when he did. He really had a gorgeous smile.

"Validation," Tony replied as DUM-E zoomed back to Steve with the ball in his claw, and he dropped it in Steve's offered hand, only to chase back after it when Steve threw it across the lab again.

"Oh, you don't mean that."

"What?"

"You act like you think he's some worthless piece of junk."

"I do not! I _know _he's some worthless piece of junk."

Steve laughed a little and shook his head, and he took the proffered ball from DUM-E again and bounced it across the room one more time.

"Now, I _know _you don't mean that," Steve said after DUM-E had taken off after it again.

"Oh, and you know me so well, huh?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I know you're not as much of a jerk as you want people to think you are."

Tony just scratched 'microfiber' from the list and didn't dignify Steve's statement with a response, and Steve was quiet a moment before he cleared his throat and said, "So, uh, Natasha said something about this charity ball thing we have to go to?"

Tony frowned and glanced at him. "Thought you knew about it?"

Steve just slunk over to a worktable, his body moving like it felt awkward to him. "Was kind of hoping you'd forgotten about it," he replied.

He snorted a laugh. "Yeah, well, not with Pep as SI's CEO. She lives to remind me of shit and make my life miserable."

"Oh, now you don't mean that, either."

He shrugged and scratched off 'spandex' as well. That…was not a sight he wanted to see on either the Hulk or Bruce.

Now Steve, on the other hand...

"Look, all you gotta do is dress up real nice, show up for five minutes, shake hands, get your picture taken, mingle a little, have a drink, couple hors d'oeuvres—"

Steve's face went paler and paler the longer he talked, and he cut off and made a face and said, "They're really not that bad."

But Steve wasn't convinced, and while a crash sounded from the other end of the room as DUM- E searched for his missing bouncy ball, he said, "Yeah, well, if they're anything like the glad-handing I had to do back during the war…"

Tony shrugged. "Well, only you can be the judge of that. I wasn't there, so…"

"Yeah," Steve said, looking a little lost. "I know."

Tony frowned and considered this newest look, head tilted in thought.

_He says he doesn't wanna be without us 'cuz one time, he fell asleep for a long time, and when he woke up, everyone was gone! And he was sad 'cuz he didn't have anyone._

OK, well, sure. That made sense. Of course there'd be that overlap. Their Steve would had to have been practically inhuman not to have something like that affect him. It didn't… It didn't _mean _anything, right?

There was another crash, then a thump, then the sounds of something dragging, and DUM-E beeped in delight as he produced his bouncy ball, and he zoomed back over to Steve with it and dropped it in Steve's outstretched hands, and Steve smiled faintly at him and said, "I think that's enough excitement for the time being, don't you?"

DUM-E whirred and beeped and nudged at Steve's hand with his claw, and Steve laughed and said, "He's like a dog. Did you program him this way?"

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes, pushing those previous thoughts from his mind. "No, I programmed him to actually be useful. He must have gotten hit by a bolt of lightning and it fried his circuits."

"Oh, don't listen to him!" Steve said, petting — _petting! _— DUM-E's strut. "He doesn't mean it. You're a good boy."

"He's a menace and an embarrassment, and I swear to god, one of these days, I'm dumping him on Queens College's doorstep and running the other way."

Steve just continued petting him and said, "Don't you listen to him. He loves you. He just has a reputation he has to uphold." And then, he leaned in and whispered loudly like he was conspiring with the 'bot but still wanted Tony to hear what he was saying. "But that's OK, because we know the truth. We know how much of a sentimental pushover he really is."

_But then he found you and the 'vengers, and then he was happy again._

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms as he watched the scene unfold before him — watched as Steve comforted and conspired with DUM-E — and, for not the first time in the last few months, he thought of a little, blonde-haired chatterbox with big, dark eyes. He'd told himself he wasn't going to think about her, and so far as Bruce and Rhodey knew, he hadn't. Bruce had brought her up just the other day, and Tony had been able to bluff his way through a game of 'Olivia _who?_' before Bruce had finally let it drop.

But lying to himself was much, much tougher. He wouldn't say he was dwelling on thoughts of her, but he did think about her. He'd even kept one of the pictures she'd drawn — the one that was supposed to be of the two of them cuddling on the couch and watching that Avengers cartoon she was seemingly obsessed with. He'd burned all the others, unable to accept that they'd ever even existed; but this one… This one he kept, tucked safely into his desk, a reminder of a moment when he hadn't been just a one-time Merchant of Death trying to repent his sins but a dad that was loved and adored and wrapped around the pinky finger of a precocious little girl that he knew would one day have the entire world at her feet.

And he thought about Steve, too — that other Steve, the one that had kissed him like it was the last time he ever would, the one that had gazed into his eyes with nothing but love and devotion behind his crystalline blue irises. There were times, when he and this Steve were just hanging out chatting or getting coffee or a drink, that he could see elements of that other Steve in his. There were moments that he swore he saw his Steve — OK, not really _his _Steve, but _this _Steve — giving him that soft, intimate look that that other Steve had offered him, the one that made him feel like he was the most important thing in the world to that Steve. God help him, there were moments where he thought maybe this Steve was thinking about laying one smack on him like that other Steve had.

It was funny how his opinion of someone could change so drastically and so quickly. Not that he'd ever actually _disliked _Steve — not really. Most of that stemmed from whatever residual shit he was still dealing with from Howard. It had become apparent to him, over the course of the few months, that Howard's Steve Rogers was practically a fiction. Was he the steadfast, cunning, brave, tactical genius that Howard had blathered on about? Sure. But Howard had missed the part where Steve Rogers was also a devious, sly, sarcastic little shit that that was not above breaking the rules to do what he thought was Right, and, when he got caught, would then try to talk his way out of it on a technicality that somehow made the person that dared question his method ashamed he'd ever doubted the great Captain.

If this was what that other Steve Rogers was like, and if the other Tony Stark was anything like him, then there was no question in his mind how that other Tony had fallen in love with that other Steve. Because, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he…was kind of in love with _this _Steve. Not just because he was handsome, and not just because he was kind and generous, and not at all because he knew there existed another world where a Tony and a Steve had gotten married and forged a family together (though that did help give him the nudge he'd needed to admit his feelings for Steve were not as platonic or as antagonistic as he'd originally thought). It was because for the first time, he felt as though he'd truly found someone that was an equal to him — not in terms of brain power or science or anything like that, but in terms of drive, energy, and spirit. Steve was someone that was not afraid to stand up to him, did not feel the need to humor him just to shut him up (well, on the stuff that mattered), or blatantly ignore him when he felt Tony had gone off the deep end. He listened to what Tony had to say, took it into consideration, and, when needed, pushed back against whatever he felt was unnecessary or stupid. Which, admittedly, was a lot because Steve Rogers was that. Fucking. Stubborn.

But it wasn't just work. It was the personal angle, too. They had a shared fraternity in that they'd both been shaped, for better or worse, by Howard Stark. They were both men that had a public and a private persona that didn't always mesh. They were both men trying to do what they thought was Right for the world, even if they didn't always agree on the means to do it. And then there were the ways they balanced each other. Not just physically, though that was a given (<strike>short</strike> _average_/tall; tawny/fair; brunette/blonde; brown-eyed/blue-eyed; lean/built). But it was in the way they blended and complemented each other, the way that one took gladly what the other offered, the way Steve liked to marvel at advancements and Tony liked to show off. It was in the way they innately understood each other — even if they didn't always agree — and the way they could communicate with nothing more than meeting each other's gazes. It was in the way they could have an entire conversation with each other with barely a word uttered because words were superfluous. Each somehow knew what the other was thinking, like they were connected on a level no one else could match, something that made Bruce scratch his head and Barton roll his eyes and Romanoff gaze at them impassively almost like she was bored by it all.

It was for things like this that a part of him thought or wondered, for few and brief moments, if whatever had happened in that other universe (because there was just no way it was his actual, real future; it couldn't be; not with no arc reactor and a daughter not named 'Maria') could actually happen here. Or, if not that exact future, then something like it. Because Rhodey was right. It was much easier to tell himself that it wasn't real, that it couldn't happen, that it wasn't his life than it was to admit that there was a part of him deep down that _wanted _it to be real, wanted it so much to be real because if it wasn't? If it didn't happen? If he had gotten a taste of something that he might actually have fantasized about deep down once or twice and realized how much he really wanted it — or maybe _needed _it — and it didn't come to pass? Words couldn't describe the amount of hurt that could and would cause him. So, if he told himself that all of that was part and parcel of another universe, when it didn't happen here, he couldn't get upset over it. It wasn't meant to happen here. It was all a part of another time and place.

He felt a little pang hit him in his sternum, like he'd lost something he'd never really had, and as Steve laughed and continued to pet DUM-E and told him that no, he wasn't tossing the ball any more until Tony got his lab cleaned up, Tony thought back once more to that soft smile he'd never seen before and that hot, searing kiss that had left him weak in the knees.

And then he thought about what that Steve — that bruised and bloodied Steve — had said to him.

_Teach me how to dance. You'll know when_.

He swallowed, and he watched Steve give in to DUM-E and toss the ball for him one last time, and he thought…maybe…just maybe…

He could keep his mouth shut. He could keep his mouth shut and let Steve kvetch about the gala and his wish to stay home and how much he hated those things, and they could go about their business, friends and nothing more, and Tony could continue to nurse this painful crush of his that was most definitely more than a crush at this point and— Look, no one else outside of him treated his helper 'bots as anything but helper 'bots, but here was Steve, stupid, beautiful Steve, playing with DUM-E and talking to DUM-E and treating DUM-E like an adorable, over-excited puppy, and could he help it if Steve was just, _ugh_, there were times that he thought Steve was too fucking perfect for words with his gorgeous smile and his gentle manner and his—

_Or _he could open his mouth and offer to do something that might lead to him, someday, maybe, somewhere down the road, having a life very similar to that other Tony's life: married to a super soldier, father to a precocious, talkative four-year-old that only ate the cheese off her pizza and liked to draw and tell stories.

Tony saved his progress with Bruce's stretchy pants, and he sat up a little, trying to play it cool, but his palms began to sweat, and he wiped them off on his pants then swallowed his nerves and said, "Say, Cap— _Steve?_"

"Yeah?" He looked up from where he was petting DUM-E's strut and telling him he would play with him again later.

He shrugged and stood up to grab a tablet, casual, like he wasn't about to put his heart out on his sleeve for Steve to, quite possibly, stab, maim, and destroy.

"I was thinking. With that charity ball coming up, and I know you want to just get in and get out, but you know how those things go. Yeah, you wine and dine and you socialize and glad-hand — sorry about that — but there's usually dancing involved at these things, and that can be a nightmare if you don't know what you're doing, and I have it from a reliable source that you don't know what you're doing. So, how 'bout it?"

Steve frowned a little at him, almost like he was insulted by what Tony was insinuating. "How 'bout what?"

And this was it. Moment of truth. No turning back from this. He wanted a chance at that future — he wanted a chance at a Steve Rogers that kissed him like he was the only person that had ever mattered and a little chatterbox that had him wrapped around her little finger — he had to do this. No matter the outcome.

He took a deep breath.

"How'd you like me to teach you how to dance?"

~*Fin*~


End file.
